The Errant Huntsman
by 1Homer1
Summary: "In the White Fang's blood, my hands are cleansed, from innocents deceased, I will avenge. To my mother and father, who I held so dear, I will defeat the Grimm; I will avenge. The Schnee will pay, in my time, by my way; I will avenge. To right the wrongs, I will return the debt and in time, I will pay."
1. Hunted

The wolf Faunus ran through the forest, weaving about as it tried to evade its pursuers. The dull throbbing in his leg grew more intense with each step, the mask he wore became stifling with his panicked respiration, the weight of his weapon grew upon his back until it felt like a mountain had been dropped upon him.

All his life, he had made mistakes, but this one may just cost not only his life, but the lives of his wife and one child. The huntsman wondered how he had fallen so low, to resort to theft. Had it been the day he broke from his team? Or perhaps after his injury had left him a dead weight, unable to take on any more jobs. It did not matter. What mattered now was saving his family, for the wolf knew that there was no salvation left for him. Not after stealing from the Schnee Dust company. Their PMCs would be coming soon.

Finally, as he ran along the dirt path, his little home came into view; a small cottage, hens clucking in the foreyard. Behind ran a river along which a small peach orchard grew. The huntsman arrived at the orchard, where he saw the two things he cherished most; his human wife Lydia (How long ago it seemed when they met at a club in Vale), and his 14-year-old son, Herman Grauer. It seemed only yesterday that he held the squalling infant in his hands. Tears almost came to the huntsman's eyes as he remembered the prowess his son showed with his father's weapon. The lad had grey hair and blue eyes with a pair of wolf ears protruding from his head. His skin was sun kissed, his face well formed with high cheekbones and an aquiline nose, like his mother. Herman was clad in a navy blue sherwani with one sleeve missing, beneath which he wore a white long-sleeved shirt, black trousers and hiking boots. Slung over his right shoulder was a wide log

They saw him too, concern growing on their faces as they saw his tattered attire resplendent with crimson stains, dirt streaked face and desperate grey eyes.

"Caleb! What happened? Did something go wrong?" Lydia anxiously asked.

"I... I messed up. Gather up all the Lien and food and go."

"Why? Aren't you coming?" Herman asked, too innocent to know what was going on.

"There's no time, now GO!" Caleb roared "They're coming for me, not you! You may still live if you head north, towards Vale, towards Beacon!"

"We can't go without you! Please...my love, come with us." She protested frantically

"Go now. I'll meet you at Vale, I promise." Caleb raised his voice. Arguing was not an option, Lydia could see as she walked back to the house, head bowed.

"O... okay." she bit back a sob.

As she gathered up all the clothes, she realized that this may be the last she saw of her husband. A tear trickled from her eye.

Meanwhile, Caleb loaded his double-barreled shotgun as he walked to his son, kneeling so he was eye level with the lad. The boy stepped back slightly, feeling his father's hot breath brush over his face. He was quivering like a taut guitar string after having been strummed several times.

"Listen, big guy. You may not see me for some time and It's now up to you to keep your mother safe. Can you do that for me?"

The boy nodded. Despite everything, Caleb smiled as he unslung the weapon from his back and unsheathed it, a huge 6 feet tall onyx black longsword. But what made it special was the silver-grey teeth tracks that ran along both edges. They began to quickly whirr around the blade once the switch below the pommel was flicked, activating the inbuilt motor. Another button and it transformed into a rapid fire, air cooled LMG, fed by a 100-round box underneath the weapon.

"Nihil is yours now. Take care of it, will ya?"

The boy nodded. He knew his responsibility, accepting the weapon with shaking hands.

Placing the mighty weapon in his son's hands, it made him proud to see his son quickly moving into the correct position, with his arms extended and blade pointed towards the opponent. Then he began; a flurry of sideswipes, heavy overhead blows, backstrokes, kicks and barges. Caleb even chuckled a bit as Herman stumbled slightly; the boy was not yet used to the chainsword's weight. The boy would make a huntsman yet.

"Herman! Come now!" Lydia called, hefting the satchel over her shoulder.

The half breed looked at her, then at his father.

"Go."

As he saw his wife and son go further away, his sorrow was compounded as they finally vanished from view.

"I love you both. But it has to be this way..." he muttered to himself.

He turned around; shotgun ready as he heard an incoming vehicle. The truck stopped at the edge of the road and 3 PMCs dismounted. All were dressed in white combat attire, with heavy vests and chest carriers bearing countless magazines, knives and various other forms of equipment.

"Looks like you got nowhere to run now, you damn mutt." growled the bearded one, hefting his assault rifle. The other two, a clean-shaven young man and a somewhat older woman followed suit.

"If I surrender, what becomes of me?"

"Surrender? You're dumber than you look. Old man Schnee just called and he wants you dead. Should've thought before joining with the White Fang, eh?"

Caleb growled, baring his teeth. He would never ally with that bunch of degenerates. But it seemed nowadays any Faunus was assumed to be one of them. At any rate, he'd go down fighting. He raised his gun.

Ravens flew, shocked by the sudden explosions.

Bullets mingled with the soil, and the ants marched across rivers of red to feast.


	2. Anguish

Chapter 2: Anguish

Herman and his mother swiftly moved through the forest. Having lived in this area for so long, she practically knew the area like the back of her hand. Her only hope was that Caleb would meet them in Vale. She allowed herself to relax a bit; after all her husband was a veteran huntsman, and even though he had not told her of the exact nature of his problem, she was sure that he would sort it out, and they would soon be together.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Dragan Murkwater was having a very bad day. His scroll rang, and he groaned as he saw that it was from Mr. Schnee.

"Yeah?"

"Is it done?" came the cold, emotionless voice. Dragan looked behind him, at what remained of his team-mates and his truck. One, a new fella had been killed when the convoy was hit, and the other two...

His friends...

Amelia's limp corpse was stuck in the hood of the truck, the windscreen shattered and bloodied. Glass shards stuck out of her body, and her head-or what remained of it-was nothing but red pulp. He shuddered to think of her last moments, her face held against the searing-hot metal.

He then looked at Nguyen, who lay in a pile of blood and rags near the wooden fence. Two sharpened stakes-part of the fence-had been driven through his knees, and he was missing both of his arms. Only red rags and bone stumps poked out from the flesh. His blood-splattered face was frozen in shock, the man's almond-shaped eyes wide open.

He then looked at the bastard who had killed them both. The wolf Faunas lay sprawled in the dirt, two tomahawks buried in his back. The purple energy dust glowed on the red-stained metal. Aside from that, a large quantity of spent ammunition lay all around the area, and the Faunas himself was sporting multiple gunshot injuries. Dragan thanked his luck stars for throwing those axes when he did-another second and he'd end up like the rest. Spitting in the dirt, he answered Mr. Schnee with biterrness in his voice.

"Both my team members are dead, my truck is busted, but yeah, the Faunus is dead. Nice to see that you care about your employees, boss."

"Have you recovered the dust?"

The bastard cared more about his precious merchandise, Dragan thought as he looked at the vials in his hand.

"Yes."

"Good. Now torch the area."

With that, Mr. Schnee disconnected and Dragan sighed as he headed to the back of the truck to fetch the gasoline canisters.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Herman was exhausted, but every time he stopped his mother was ushered him on. He didn't see what the danger was, or why they had to leave in the first place. He groaned as he stumbled on.

"Just a bit more honey, then we can re-" Lydia was cut off by a growl coming from their left. Shielding her son, her breath became short and ragged as a pair of red eyes advanced, and towered above them.

A Beowulf, plated in white bone-like armor. It gnashed its teeth and let out a roar. Herman frightened, instinctively reached for the chainsword. His mother stood before him, shielding her child. But Herman would have none of it-he had a weapon, he knew how to use it. He would defend his mother. Unsheathing the chainsword and flicking the motor switch, he charged at the beast head-on.

The weight of the weapon, combined with the rough terrain caused him to stumble in his foolhardy charge and smack his head on the blade. Stars flew before his eyes, and the cub felt himself lying facedown on the dirt. He looked up, only to see the Beowulf casually step over him and hear his mother's scream. Rage burned in his veins, and he grabbed Nihil and desperately darted forward at the beast, at whose feet his mother lay. It turned to face him, its muzzle stained, and Herman slid on the wet glass, his weapon extended. The blade passed through it, and it keeled over. Herman wrenched the blade out and leapt to his feet, his back to his mother.

The beast fell to the ground, evaporating. Herman could feel something running through his blood, coming out from him, protecting him, like some sort of shield. Then it hit him; this was the 'Aura' his father had told him about, the hunter's protection.

"Herman..." came a weak voice behind him.

In shock, the boy turned around and rushed to his mother, dropping to his knees as he saw the effect of the Beowulf's strike on his mother. It had torn her belly right open, and the green-grey inner contents were spilling out. Despite the horror, Herman kept shuffling on his knees to his mother until her head rested in his lap. She extended her arm and softly caressed her son's face.

"My son has become a huntsman..." she uttered, then her hand fell away and she became silent.

Herman shuddered as tears fell freely. He had failed his mother, and now he was alone in the forest with all sorts of Grimm. Where could he go now? In an unknown direction until he found civilization? He doubted that.

Or perhaps he could go home, and find Dad. A faint glimmer of hope still existed. Looking down, he closed his mother's eyes and rose. Within fifteen minutes, he had gathered a bunch of different flowers, and lay them upon his mother, folding her arms to conceal her wound.

Finally, he was done. Looking back towards his mother's partially-covered corpse, he headed back towards home. It was dark when he reached, but as he came close to the familiar location, he halted some distance away and ducked into the bushes, realizing that something was wrong.

Multiple cars and trucks with were clustered around the house, pouring something all over the building. In front of the orchard, he could see a bearded man in combat gear pouring the same liquid onto a body. Herman's eyes dilated as torchlight from one of the workers illuminated Caleb's face. Too shocked to do anything, he watched speechless as the bearded man threw a lit match onto the liquid, setting everything ablaze. The orange flames grew, standing out against the night sky as the men ran back to their vehicles, started the engines and took off in a trail of dust.

Not when they were gone did Herman let out a wail of pain and sorrow. His last hope was quashed, and now he was truly alone. His eyes grew dim and felt as if they too had been set alight, and he rose from his hiding spot. There was only one thing to do. Follow those vehicle tracks to wherever they came from...

...and seek revenge on the fuckers.


	3. Tracking

Chapter 3: Tracking

The huge convoy had left a rather large trail, and Herman walked this path for 3 days, taking 30-minute intervals every 4 hours. His father had often taken him hiking for weeks, so 3 days flew by easily. What wasn't easy was resting at night. Although he passed by many farms, Herman didn't dare to stay the night at one. He didn't know who to trust, and he wasn't sure if the mostly human inhabitants would let a scruffy, well-armed Faunus in. His father had always told him that humans feared the Faunus, and the Faunus feared the humans. And in that fear, they would quash their inner consciences and do horrible things to one another.

So basically, there was no one he could rely on, and every night he would try to find a large sturdy tree (preferably close to a settlement wall) to strap himself to during nighttime, when the monsters ran free. Twice, he awoke to the growling of Grimm as they paced around his little refuge, eager to get at him. But when daytime came they would always retreat, for humanity had left its mark and they knew better to tangle with the heavily armed, fortified inhabitants of the area.

At the end of the 3rd day, Herman found himself a few miles from a medium sized mining outpost. The location was at the foot of a mountain in which the mines had been established, and every day motorized trolleys would rattle back and forth from the loading bay situated in the main complex consisting of a collection of offices, a motor pool and a small garrison. This entire setup was covered by a 12-foot-tall dual chain fence. Along this fence there were six guard towers, which would illuminate the surrounding area with their floodlights at night, making infiltration virtually impossible. Along the fence stony faced sentries patrolled with vicious looking hounds.

Herman removed his binoculars and stowed them in the satchel. He could see no way to get past the defenses by stealth, and he seriously doubted the probability of him blowing his way in. One partially trained fourteen-year-old Faunus with a chainsword-LMG couldn't do anything, and Herman considered going back. But go back for what? There was nothing for him anymore, and his supplies were running low.

What he needed was an army, and as if some cosmic deity was reading his mind, one arrived on the fifth day.

Herman was scanning the main fence, considering the possibility of scaling a guard tower when he noticed all the sentries running away, with a few levelling their rifles at some enemy in the distance. They didn't get the chance to fire as a massive jeep ploughed into their lines, scattering the survivors as the vehicle smashed past the reinforced gate. It came to a halt and Herman could see 4 hooded men wearing Grimm masks along with digital patterned fatigues leap out and begin wreaking hell upon the outpost. Down the road, more vehicles came with similarly clothed men and women, though they wore white and black uniforms with some sort of beast printed upon the back. Adjusting the magnification, Herman could see that they were not humans, but Faunus. From somewhere, a siren wailed as the staff began to evacuate the location, their numbers slowly replaced by guards.

 _Meanwhile..._

Dragan poured himself another cup of coffee before walking over to a landline. Cursing the pain in his leg, he dialed a number, and waited for it to connect.

"Dragan, honey!" His wife's cheery voice crackled, and despite all that happened three days prior, he smiled.

"Hey there, Mauve. What's new?" He replied, sipping his coffee.

"Oh, typical you. Works a dangerous security job, wants to know about home where it is safe and sound. Well, today I went..." Dragan smiled as his wife went on about her day. It was all so calm and serene, so far away from the dangers of his job. His heart pounded, and he wondered when his next vacation would roll around. He'd have to do a few things first, though. Pay his respects to the families of the deceased, for starters. All these bitter thoughts were swept away, however, by what his wife said next.

"And guess what's coming up in a few days? Hmm?" She teased in those lovely honeyed tones. Dragan thought for a few seconds, before his mind arrived at the conclusion.

"Dylan's eigth birthday?" He smiled, thinking of his baby boy, wondering what he ought to get him. His wife squealed in happiness, and he felt warm inside.

All of a sudden though, there was a massive explosion, and Dragan immediately dropped to the floor as glass shattered from the impact of the shockwave. Shards flew all about him, and one penetrated his landline, cutting off the connection. He cursed and coughed, trying to get the smoke out of his lungs before looking through the shattered break room window.

White Fang. The mere sight of those mask-clad fanatics drove him into a frenzied rage, and he grabbed his two trusty tomahawks before rushing outside, flinging one into the chest of an enemy before hacking off another's leg and arm with it.

 _Back in the treeline..._

Herman sprang from his position and began to sprint towards the compound, ignoring the pins and needles that danced along his legs. He would be damned if he let this chance slip past. Within minutes he was racing past the front gate, Nihil in its LMG form. The Faunus had seen him, and some were gesticulating, shouting, unsure of what to do with the new arrival. Some raised their weapons and Herman was punched by some force in the side but he kept running towards the cargo bay. He didn't really have a plan except for 'find tall bearded guy and...'

Do what? Kill him? Herman gritted his teeth. He would cross that bridge when he came to it. As several shots nearly grazed him, he realized that he had to get to cover, fast. There was a mighty groan as a guard tower's supports were blown apart and it came crashing down upon the cargo bay entrance.

Herman rolled out of the way in time, the tower missing him by a few feet. The guards on the walkway above had seen him and he quickly rushed behind a few crates, bullets whistling past. Panting, he peeked around, only to quickly retract his head as a few more gunshots were loosed at him. Then the guns went silent, and Herman popped out from the right side, weapon ready. In the place of the guards stood a member of the opposing faction, who raised his sword and pistol in response. Suddenly, he shuddered and fell over as the air was filled with the roar of rifles, 2 guards advancing upon his position.

Herman had them squared in his sights, and time seemed to slow. The cries of men mingled with the howls of Faunus, the steady _rat-tat-tat_ of automatic weapons were replaced by absolute silence as Herman's trigger finger trembled.

 _Was he ready to pull that trigger, and end two lives?_

His mother's body, the inferno that devoured his father and his home flashed into his mind. These men were responsible for that. And they would pay.

 _Yes._

The sudden burst of fire shocked Herman's shoulder as he squeezed the trigger, and he fell back onto the cold hard concrete, Nihil by his side. He felt stupid, he should've switched it to semi auto. It would've been more accurate too and he wouldn't have fallen over like an idiot. Black smoke filled the large bay, and he could hear the screams of the two men, realizing that his incendiary bullets had indeed found home.

Two more gunshots, and the screaming stopped. A shadow loomed over the crates, and Herman's heart stopped as the bearded PMC leapt over them. His brown eyes bored into Herman's own, and he grabbed the teen, swung him into the air and brought him down upon the metal crate. Pain spread across his body.

"So, the mutt had a puppy," he spat "and I suppose you want me dead, hmmm? For ending that miserable thief's existence."

Herman was too frightened to say anything. The world seemed to have tunneled around the PMC's face, and even when he plunged his combat knife into Herman's left arm, shredding the shirt fabric easily, plunging into flesh, the boy barely registered it.

"When you mess with the Schnee company, this is what you get." he raised a pistol.

Herman shut his eyes tightly as he heard a loud noise, and he felt the PMC's grip loosen. There was a thump.

 _He must have shot me, and that thump was my body hitting the ground._

 _Am I dead?_

It certainly didn't feel like it; the stench of dust ammunition, decay and burning oil was still there. His shoulder burned, and he could hear footsteps approaching. The siren still screamed, and he could hear the faint moans of the dying.

"One thing I like about the bad guys, is that before pulling the trigger they tend to talk a lot." came a warm, friendly voice.

Herman opened his eyes. A well-built man, in digital camo was standing before him. He couldn't see his face due to the mask, but he noted the two auburn fox ears that protruded from his head. Behind him lay the body of the PMC, now missing a large portion of his head. Looking down on his clothes, he groaned with disgust upon seeing the grey brain matter mixed with blood drops and skull fragements on his sherwani.

"And the boy lives! Well, I suppose you'd probably need medical attention, given that knife in your arm. Anyhow, I should thank you for distracting that merc. Nasty piece of work, him. Had me suppressed."

Herman said nothing as once more the world faded to black.

Clyde was having a strange day. The mission was a success, but there was the matter of this wolf Faunus kid showing up. Boy was lucky not to have been killed. Where was his mother and father anyway? And how come he wasn't affected by the some of the bullets the dumb goons had loosed at him? He swore he had seen the kid stagger, as if they had hit him.

"Flash, what have we got?" he asked the fox.

"I dunno, sir. Just this kid who saved me from a few bullets in my rear. Anyway, that's one slick looking gun." Flash prattled on as he inspected the weapon.

Clyde had seen such beautiful craftmanship before. But this boy was too young to be a hunter. Perhaps one in training? If so, why had he come to their aid? There was only one thing to do, he realized as he saw the team medic tend to the boy.

Take him to the base at Atlas, and train him. Clyde smiled as he found the newest member of Alpha Pack.


	4. The Pack

Chapter 4: The Pack

The bullhead flew low over the terrain of Vale as it proceeded to Atlas. This craft had been specially modified with stealth technology so there was no danger of its interception. Clyde stood at the bridge, mulling over the day's events. Looking at the boy, now nestled in a blanket, he knew that bringing non-classified personnel could have him hanged, if not worse.

Yet he took the risk. The way the boy had handled himself under fire was exemplary, and all he required was training and he would soon be a powerful weapon in the hands of the Fang. Besides, there was a lack of Aura-powered operatives in the Atlas section of the White Fang. The ones based in Vale had recruited such kids, and apparently, they were doing wonders.

"Sir?" Flash spoke up

"What is it, corporal?"

"I was just wondering, the boy...the only reason you'd bring him along is if you had some sort of plan for him. And I was wondering...do you plan to induct him into the Pack?"

"That really isn't a question you should ask me. After all, we just picked up someone who could be of some use to the Fang."

"Some use? The boy's bloody brilliant. He just charged in there, drew the enemies fire, and helped me kill a senior officer."

"I know that. But his fate lies in the hands of-" Clyde was cut off by a beeping from his scroll.

"Commander Taurus."

"I've received a report that someone else was involved in the mining post raid." Adam spoke, briskly cutting to the point.

"Yes sir. It was a Faunus kid, sir."

"And what was he doing there?"

"Well, he sort of barged in and started causing havoc. He was a good distraction, and on top of it, he lived. But that's not it sir, the boy has an Aura, and a hunter's weapon."

Adam gritted his teeth as his mind drifted to a certain raven-haired cat Faunus. Great caution would have to be exercised in this case. Children were wild and unpredictable, and he wouldn't make the same mistake again, as he did with Blake.

"Is he awake?"

"No sir."

"If he does, you are to thoroughly interrogate him. If he even mentions that he is part of an Academy, you are to terminate him."

"And if he isn't?" Clyde was not a stranger to the act of killing. Yet he would hate to cut a young life short.

"I'm sure you'll find some use for him." With that, the call was cut off.

Clyde sighed and rubbed his eyes. It was going to be a rough day. Heading back to his seat he leaned back against the cold metal and closed his eyes.

Herman woke with a start. Looking around, he could see that he was in sort of infirmary, judging by the clean white tiles, hospital type beds, the stench of antiseptic and a huge sign above a door reading INFIRMARY. But how did he get here? He was at the mercy of the PMC...then a Faunus soldier saved him. Herman remembered the Faunus in their Grimm masks and hooded uniforms with a red beast imprinted on the back. And then he realized.

They were the White Fang, a militant Faunus group claiming to fight for Faunus rights. His father never told him exactly what they did, but whenever he talked about them his dislike for them was evident. Still, they had saved him.

The door swung open and in walked a short-ish, bald rabbit Faunus. He had a bulky frame and it would not be wholly unapt to describe his face as best resembling a bulldog, with its saggy jowls, protruding chin, slightly upturned jaw and sullen round, black eyes.

"Good to see you're awake. How are you feeling, son?" the man asked, having a surprisingly soft voice given his physique.

"Like...absolute shit." Herman replied.

The rabbit eared man chuckled. "It happens son. I can see it in your face that it was your first time in combat. That wide, spaced out look, the hundred-mile stare, the exhaustion once adrenaline wears off. I'm Clyde, by the way."

"Herman Grauer." Herman bit his tongue. Clyde hadn't told him his last name, so why did he?

"Come along. We need to talk."

With that, he exited and Herman scrambled out of bed, noticing that he wore a white robe. Mercifully, he recognized the underwear as his own. At least no-one went fiddling about there. Sliding into his slippers he went through the doorway, only to find himself in a long narrow hall with no windows, illuminated by glaring tube lights.

"Herman, over here!" came the yell and Herman turned around to see Clyde entering an office on the far end of the hallway. Within a few seconds, he was inside. The office was small, with paint peeling off the wall. It was lit by a single bulb that hung from a chain, and in the way of furniture there was only a small desk and 3 rickety, wooden chairs as well as a mini fridge in the corner, next to the waste bin. Clyde was pouring something hot from a flask into a mug, and Herman sniffed the air, noting by the sweet rich smell that it was cocoa. He then proceeded to open the mini fridge and pull out a bottle filled with a dark amber liquid.

"Sit down."

Herman did so, and Clyde slid him the now opened bottle and sat down on the opposite chair. He took a sip from his mug. Herman inspected the label on the bottle. FIREBRAND, it read.

"Drink up. You'll need it to muster your strength."

As he swallowed, Herman wished he hadn't. The liquid scorched his mouth and throat, and it tasted awful. As the burning faded away, he firmly set the bottle down and stared in an accusatory manner at Clyde. Yet he could feel a warm sensation spread from his stomach to all over his body. It was a comforting sensation, and Herman felt his muscles relax.

"First things first. Are you from a huntsman's academy?"

Herman's father had told him about such places, and he often talked about enrolling him in Beacon when he was 17. Now, he'd never get that chance.

"No, sir. I do know a bit about them, though."

Clyde grunted. The boy had no idea how close he just was to dying.

"Where are you from?"

"Uh...what's the point of all this?"

"You do know the implications of your little assault on that outpost, right? You may have sabotaged a vital operation and that is sufficient grounds for your execution. I can only help you if you tell me the truth." Clyde's voice was hard as steel.

"I didn't even want to get involved in... whatever this White Fang bullshit is! I just wanted payback, for my father and my mother." Herman raged.

Clyde was a master at reading people's faces and emotions, the little slips of tounge that revealed huge conspiracies. It came with being in the White Fang for years, and Clyde saw that the boy was not lying.

"Knowing the Schnee Dust Company, I suppose it's safe to assume that your parents got on the wrong side of them, and they are most probably dead."

Herman grunted.

"I'm sorry to hear about that, but what if I offered you the chance to strike back? To right the wrongs humanity has done to us Faunus."

The boy perked up; he was clearly interested.

"What do you mean?"

"Join us. Not just the White Fang, but my squad. Alpha Pack, the finest group of warriors in this organization."

Herman thought about that. His father had often expressed disgust about the White Fang's objective to eradicate humanity. But they had saved him, and they did offer him... a sort of home. A new family. One that would let him get back at the Schnee.

"If it involves taking down the Schnee Company, then I'm in."

"You will get that chance, boy. However, know this; Alpha Pack only accepts the most hardened members of the White Fang, and you will have to undergo the hardest training to ensure that you are capable of undertaking missions with us. After you finish a month of Basic, you will be immediately bumped up to our training level. Hopefully in 3 years minimum you'll be combat ready."

Herman was dumbstruck. 3 years?

"No other way to go about it. We're taking in a young pup; in 3 years we'll have forged you into a fighting Faunus worthy of our ranks. But enough of that, it's time for you to meet the team." With that, Clyde pushed a button on his desk. There was a buzzing, and four men promptly entered the room, still in their combat gear. Herman recognized the fox Faunus, who strutted in, tail wagging and alert hazel eyes. He was followed by a slender, bald headed, black eyed and dark skinned cat Faunus. Finally, a massively built hairy man with a rough face, hawk like nose and angry light brown eyes ducked beneath the doorframe to enter. It took a minute for Herman to realize that he had bear ears amongst his almond brown hair.

"The Fox is Flash, our point man. Flash, this is Grauer, the new guy."

Flash gave him a fist bump and spoke up

"Nice to see that you're still kicking, man."

"Flash, after this kid is done with Basic, you're going to wake him 2:30 AM sharp, and take him on your exercise schedule."

Herman wasn't too troubled by this. Dad often woke him up during times in the night, to develop his 'night senses'.

"Will do, sir."

"Grauer, the Cat is Hassan of Vacuo, our marksman. He'll be your firearms instructor."

"Pleased to meet you." came Hassan's voice, dripping with honey.

"Finally, the bear is the team medic, Warren. He'll be in charge of first aid and close combat training."

"Boy's pretty young. I doubt if he can make it through training." Warren grumbled.

"Hey!" Herman said, indignant.

"Calm down, Grauer." Clyde reassured him.

"Now you know your roles, men. This is your new squad member, and you will not neglect him. Grauer, I expect you to look upon these men as brothers, and trust them accordingly."

Herman liked Flash and Hassan to some extent, but Warren?

"Dismissed." The men filed out.

Clyde reached underneath the desk and pulled out Nihil, laying it upon the table. Herman reached out for it, caressing its edge.

"Funny, how hunters can make something so deadly look so beautiful. I won't ask how you got this weapon; I only ask that you rigorously practice with it. I'll look up the related drills and techniques. After all, our own men use similar weapons. But none so well made." Clyde said, his voice filled with wonder

Herman nodded, grateful that he had reacquired his last link to his father.

"I'll take you to your dorms. We're pretty full up, but there must be a place in the barracks. Welcome to the White Fang, son."


	5. Running with the Fang

Chapter 5: Running with the Pack

3 long years passed, and Herman underwent countless tasks and trials. His physique developed, his voice deepened, his muscles became larger, his reflexes became swift, and with Clyde's help, he became even more deadly with Nihil, for now he had no reservations, no cause to hold back. But what remained with him most were the memories of these formative years.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

That night he was ushered to his room by Clyde. Due to a lack of bunks, he had been given the old janitor's room now converted to a 2-person dorm. There was no sign of his roommate yet, but Herman was comforted by the sight of his cleaned clothes lying on the central table. Next to them lay his hooded White Fang outfit with a note pinned to it. _Wear this on duty-F_ , it read. Clyde left him to change, and Herman passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow.

"OH, HELLO THERE!"

Herman awoke, stating at a pair of green eyes.

"Gah!" was all he could manage as he fell out of bed. As his vision cleared he could see that the intruder in his room was a girl, clad in the attire of the White Fang. It fitted nicely on her.

She cocked her head, wolf ears twitching, tail beating against the bed. Herman propped himself up on one shoulder, unsure of what to say. Her small figure sat well on her wafer-thin body. She had a decanter shaped waist and her complexion had an impeccable, ochrous hue, complimented by her midnight hair which tumbled upon her glossy shoulders. Her pencil-thin eyebrows eased down gently to her black eyelashes. A sculptor could not have fashioned her pointy little ears and petite nose any better. As she broke into a smile, her oyster-white teeth lit up the room. Caught in the full glare of her smile, Herman felt jolts run up his back.

"Cat got your tongue?"

"W-Who are you?" he stuttered.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm your new roommate. I'm Heidi, Heidi Azura. Have you got a name?"

"H-H-Herman Grauer." he said, unable to concentrate.

"Why are you so stiff, Herman?"

"Stiff?"

"Tensed up, y'know? Let me try something." With that she got off the bed and with lithe movements came next to Herman and immediately ran her soft hands behind his wolf ears.

"What are you doin-oh...oh that's good, that's very good." Herman half moaned, unable to control himself as electric sparks started shooting up his legs and arms. A fire began in his chest, accompanied by a deep growl which rose from his throat. Heidi giggled, not ceasing her ministrations until the heavy footsteps of the drill sergeant sent her darting back to her bunk, leaving Herman to take the full blast of the angry Reindeer Faunus.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The very same day, Herman was in a cavernous hall, listening to the induction speech. A small snake Faunus wearing the signature trench coat and Ushanka hat of a Commissar was whipping the whole hall into a fanatical fury with his words that penetrated deep into the thoughts and hearts of all the Faunus present.

"Thus, comrades after this day you will be in the frontlines of our noble struggle against humanity. We will not stop at resisting their domination; nay, we shall exterminate them from the face of Remnant!" he roared, the crowd screaming its assent.

"They will hide like rats when our terrible fury will bring them to their knees. But there will be no mercy for all the wrongdoings. Hence comrades, listen to my final words well; Kill the human-this is your mother's prayer. Kill the human-this is the cry of your oppressed brethren. Kill the human-this is the objective of our noble organization. Do not let up! Do not waver! KILL!"

Every Faunus was roaring, screaming, chanting, and shaking their fists in the air.

But Herman was not purely Faunus; he was only half that. Would they kill him too, if they knew? The Commissar's message did not resonate with him, for he remembered his mother. Yet Herman realized that he must keep silent about his doubts. He was only with the Fang because they offered him revenge. With this in mind, he chanted and shook his fist in the air with the others.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

From the outside, the base in Atlas was a mere abandoned shipping post by a dried-up river, of no interest to anyone. Below, however was an intricate rabbit warren of offices, barracks, armories, canteens and hallways that stretched on endlessly. Thousands, if not millions of Faunus lived and trained here. Most combat drills were conducted in large training rooms within the complex, however at least four times a week, usually during night-time recruits took part in massive simulated guerrilla attacks. Herman fit right in, excelling in most of his courses. His father had laid the groundwork after all.

The only things he couldn't quite get right was bomb defusal (Just too many damn wires, and it didn't help that the entire class would hover over his back, holding their breath.) and long-range marksmanship. Herman didn't have much of a mind for the long, intricate calculations that involved being a sniper. Anyway, sitting in one place for long was boring, no matter how much Hassan would prattle on about 'The right moment to end someone's life that brought me from Vacuo to the Fang.'

Usually the monotony was broken when Grimm would enter the above ground drills; whether by accident or deliberate intent by the superior officers, Herman could never tell. At any rate, he relished fighting them, and as the trainees fell back Herman would fight alongside the regular guard, overcoming the beasts with firepower. He wasn't allowed to use Nihil during training, but he kept it with him all the same. This often entailed stares and jealous peeks and more than once Herman had to fight off a bunch of senior recruits who wanted it for themselves. Fortunately, a few broken bones as well as an 'accidental' weapon discharge was enough to deter future attempts. He'd be damned if he lost his father's legacy.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 _35 Kilometres from the City of Mantle_

 _2:00 am_

 _Date unknown_

"Piece of garbage!" Heidi cursed, flinging herself behind a tree. Bullets whistled through the woods, thudding into various surfaces and releasing their Dust payloads, causing various multi-colored gases to rise from the points of impact. But that wasn't what concerned her-her rifle had jammed. Again. The weapon had a reputation of being a trusty workhorse of multiple militias and armies around the globe, but no-one had told this gun that. She fiddled with the ejection port in vain hopes of extracting the bullet, but no luck.

"Got a problem?" She looked up, and saw Herman crouching by her, his LMG-Chainsword in hand.

"Yeah. That machine-gun post down there. Take care of it, would you?"

"Got it." Heidi watched him stroll calm and unfazed through the hail of bullets, some of them pinging off him. Once he froze in place, and twice or thrice he shuddered as if electrocuted, but he kept walking and firing in short, quick bursts, his own bullets carving a red line through the air. His combined actions of laying down suppressive fire and drawing the enemy's fire worked out, as his teammates quickly advanced through the underbrush and stormed the nest with sub-machine guns and hand grenades. As this happened, Herman quickly switched to his chainsword and rushed into the trench-line like a maniac, leaping in and swinging without restraint. The narrow trench which earlier protected the Atlesian soldiers and their bots from gunfire now became their grave, as Herman's massive blows churned up massive chunks of turf intermixed with robotic bits and flesh.

Soon, the gunfire died down and the task force were free to proceed into the sordid confines of their target; an internment camp. Several Faunus using their natural traits (wings, webs, and suckers) scaled the wall, while Herman simply elected to run up it.

"Show-off." Someone muttered before ducking behind a rock, for a guard-tower had decided to target him.

Once the wall was scaled, it was only a matter of minutes before the doors swung open, revealing a squalid little internment camp. Paper-and-tar shacks, cramped conditions, rows of tiny little flower beds with wilted, sad-looking flowers. The Faunus inhabitants were just as sordid as their 'home', shoeless and clad in rags. As the Fang approached, their faces remained frozen in a curious mixture of shock and hope, not quite believing that their sufferings had ended.

"Guess not everyone lives in Cloud City." Herman muttered tonelessly, standing by Heidi's side once more.

"No wonder there was a lot more Grimm around here. I'd guess this is how they _really_ keep the beasts away." She spat. Slowly, they walked back outside where Herman saw a few Atlesian soldiers, including a suited man, his fat, dumpy wife and three children. They were kneeling in front of a ditch, the wife wailing and the children sobbing. Herman felt disquiet rise in his heart, yet felt those delicious chills run up his spine again.

"Camp director. Filthy bastard." One of the Faunus said after noticing Herman's confused look.

"And the kids?"

"The bugger's little frog-spawn. Collaborators." Herman didn't know how to respond to that. He wanted to cry out, but it was as if a vice had clamped about his mouth and throat.

"Come on, Herman. Let's go." Heidi said, grabbing his shoulder. He turned to notice that her face was also contorted in disgust, yet she said nothing too. Herman was brimming with self-doubt, and the first seeds of regret and reservation had been sown in his heart.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

One day, he was escorted through the forest by Beckendorf, a reindeer Faunas. The guy was a clerk in the supply corps, and Herman had to escort him to some super-secret officer's only cache. The trip was uneventful, with only the distant roars of Grimm and occasional gunfire off somewhere to rouse him. Finally, they came across a small hole in the ground, and after pulling through the undergrowth, they uncovered a ladder. Climbing down into the cavern, it was as if the temperature had dropped several degrees. Herman and Beckendorf walked side by side, until they came across a few cases of FIREBRAND, encased in ice. Herman shattered the ice easily, but the sudden temptation that came over him was too much.

"Eh, why not? Call it our rightful rum ration, no?" Beckendorf smiled as both of them took a bottle, uncorked and drank, feeling the delicious fiery flame heat them up inside. One became two, two became three, and three became a drunken fist fight in the cavern. Herman swung a right hook, before slipping on some icy stone and bashing his head on some rock, knocking him out.

"YES! I WON!" Beckendorf hollered, dancing about before turning around. All of a sudden the cheer went out of him when he saw the dark, lean face of Hassan staring at him in the dark. The next moment, he was on the floor seeing stars.

Herman woke with the taste of piss in his mouth and a massive headache. His arms felt strained, but he could not move them. His vision was blurry, but Beckendorf's panicked and sweaty face swam into view. He had been lashed to two posts, metal chains wrapped about his bloodied wrists. Herman blinked, and once more tried to move his arm only to hear the clank of chains. He looked up, only to see himself in a similar contraption. Rotating his head, he saw all the recruits gathered about, staring at him. He snarled and tried to twist the chain but no luck.

"For drinking on duty, and infighting, Herman Grauer is sentenced to fifty lashes." He heard the Drill Sergeant call out, and before he could even register it a searing pain ran up his back, followed by the harsh coldness making the pain worse, despite his Aura.

Yet as they lashed away, they never managed to get him to scream. On the contrary, Herman felt chills run up his body with every _swish-crack_ , and it was not an entirely unpleasant phenomenon. In fact, he felt like laughing. When the sergeant moved around to cut his restraints, he recoiled upon seeing the wide grin on Herman's face even as the skin on the boy's back peeled and curled like red ribbons.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

3 months after Basic, Herman was declared exempt from recruit level training and was instead coached by the members of Alpha Pack. It was a damn nightmare. Every day he had to run for 30 km with Flash, accompanied by hour long sessions of calisthenics that left him dripping in sweat. Immediately after was combat drill with the ever-sullen Warren, who would thoroughly beat him to the ground, screaming insults. Other times it was Hassan, or ten, twenty other combatants. This was followed up by medical studies, during which Warren's demeanour changed. He would be more relaxed, and prone to tell stories in the end. Stories of combat and daring adventure that would make Herman's blood race. Once, feeling brave, Herman asked Warren a question.

"Why are you always so grumpy, sir?"

Warren's brow furrowed in surprise, then he sighed. He may as well tell the kid.

"Grauer, did I ever tell you how I joined the Fang?"

He didn't, and so continued with his story.

"Y'see, I was a pretty decent doctor, running a clinic with my brother in Vale. The finest you could say. Never lost a life, much better than any fancy machine. But it just so happened that a dying man was brought into my clinic. Not much you can do with a bullet firmly embedded in the patient's brain. So, he died, and it turns out that he was the bastard child or something of some big mafia man in Vale. Heck, he blamed me for being a Faunus, and conspiring to end his relative's life. And you know what happened? The piece of shit traps my brother in the clinic, and sets it on fire. Just my luck that he has connections in the insurance industry, and I lose my life savings. No money, no food for my momma and little sister. We had to move to the Poor Faunus District."

Herman didn't know what to say. He almost felt bad for asking the question.

"Joining the Fang was pretty easy, and my skills as a doctor were valued, but I wanted to be out in the frontlines. I don't know why, but I disliked being cooped up in a small office. Became a damn fine field medic, and Clyde asked for my transfer. Now I'm outside where I wanted to be, with the bullets and explosions, screaming and dying men." Warren concluded in a sad tone.

"That's why I'm always grumpy. And now it's time for your drill session with Claude. Move along, private."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A few nights later, he asked Heidi why she joined.

"Well, I suppose it's because I was tired of being pushed around. Humans, they look at us and they hate us just because we have an extra pair of ears, a tail, whatever. Ever since my father passed away..." her voice trailed off. Herman felt uneasy. He had touched a sore point.

"I understand if you don't want to talk about it." He said quickly.

"No, it's not that. You're my friend, and I don't mind telling you. Our family never had quite enough money, so I never went to school, and my sister ended up working two jobs for a miserable pay. But then," Heidi paused, hope and cheer returning to her voice "The White Fang started a social work program. I went to school, received a small grant. Enough to make something of myself. But you could say that...I wanted to repay them somehow, for their kindness. Many Faunus in my neighbourhood had been helped by them and so most of us kids joined up."

"That's...really inspirational." Herman said, wondering how the White Fang alternated between benevolence and brutality.

"And you?"

Herman seized up. His mind flashed back to his mother, flowers draped on her stomach, and his burning home. His eyes felt wet.

"Herman? What's wrong?" concern evident in her voice, her face softening.

"My family was killed by Schnee mercenaries, who also burnt down my home," he said in a cold voice. "I was wandering around, hungry when I was found by the Alpha Pack, returning from a mission." Not quite a lie, but not the whole truth either. The whole truth could get him killed.

"I'm so sorry to hear that." she said as she walked to his bed, eyes glimmering.

"But if you ever need help," taking his hand in hers "I'll be there for you." she said softly.

Herman felt that warm feeling again, and he fell asleep, smiling.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As he turned fifteen, strange things began happening to him. His voice alternated between squeaky and deep, and he felt more aggressive towards male Faunus that usual. Even Warren was knocked flat on his ass after one...difficult morning. Herman began to more notice of the females as well, particularly Heidi. He might've even had strange dreams concerning her. It became difficult to concentrate, and the worst part was, that whatever this was, it seemed the rest of the (male) teenage Faunus members were suffering from it as well. More time was spent chasing after the girls than focusing during drills, and fights in the canteen became more common. Herman himself went through 5 opponents, and one of them, Beckendorf became a good friend.

Finally, after the battles had reached a fever pitch, each Faunus kid was bundled into a room, alone by senior members. What happened to them was unknown, but Herman was taken to Clyde's office, where the team was assembled.

"I've heard that you've been going through some... difficult times." Clyde tentatively began.

Damn straight he was.

"Kid's goin' through his first heat," Warren groused "And a damn nuisance it is too. At this stage they're obsessed where their dick is going, rather than their teammate."

"Ah...but what a wonderful time it is..." Hassan sighed, mind elsewhere.

"Damn it, Hassan. Stick to the point; we can't have Grauer distracted right now. Grauer? Grauer...WHAT ARE YOU READING?!"

Herman was bored by their bickering. Digging through his bag, he found the two books Beckendorf had lent him; Ninjas of Love and Lusty Remnant (K)night.

" _Good sir, good sir, I yield! I yield! Put away thy spear!" Cried Ser Lancel._

 _"I would, if you would stop budging the sheath!" Retorted the knight, throbbing spear in hand._

He only got two lines in before Flash snatched the two away.

"Woah...hey, this is some dirty stuff." he chortled. Clyde, now very angry, grabbed the books and hurled them into the trash. Rage filled Herman and he sprang forward, fist drawn back. Warren reacted quickly and grabbed the scruff of his hoodie. Undeterred, Herman kept struggling. How dare Clyde throw them away? That little rabbit... he was going to get it. Herman began to growl and snarl.

"See what I mean?" Warren said, annoyed.

Clyde couldn't stand it anymore.

"Alright, that's enough. Flash, start with the cold-water treatments. Warren, you have those inhibitors?" Warren nodded, fishing a bright orange pill container from his uniform.

Clyde grabbed the still struggling Herman, and staring into his eyes, he spoke authoritively.

"Private Grauer. You will take these pills once each day, for the remainder of this month. If the urge to fight another male comes up, or you find yourself staring at another female, you take this. Understand?"

Herman stopped struggling, seething and defiant.

"And just to be safe, I'm going to cram one down your throat. Flash, take him to the showers after that."

That night, Heidi stroked his ears, and he still purred, the warmth in his chest still growing. But he felt nothing more. The urges were gone.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When he turned 16, the missions were assigned to randomly picked individuals who were grouped into divisions, led by a senior member of the White Fang. Initially simple operations were carried out, such as perimeter defence, infiltration, Grimm Clearing. The last Herman relished as he would get the chance to use Nihil, his Aura protecting him from friendly fire. Eventually they learnt to leave him alone and concentrate on other targets as he fought a chosen Grimm. However most of the ones they encountered were Creeps and Beowolves, though once they stumbled upon a huge Beringel that wiped out half the team, and Herman spent two days in the infirmary after going one-on-one with it. Another time, a huge Nevermore snatched away the team leader. Ah well, at least Herman got to score the sweet-looking left-hand gauntlet the poor guy left behind. It even had a small holding port for a scroll.

The bigger problem was the weather. Spring and summertime could be pleasant, but these two seasons were often accompanied by rain that turned the frozen ground into liquid sludge and hampered movement. As for winter, that was an entirely different story. Sheets of ice and snow covered the turf, concealing steep drops and shifting unpredictably. As he had his Aura, Herman was not duly troubled. But more than once they'd come upon a desolate scouting post, the fire out and the once-alive inhabitants clutching their weapons with stiff blue fingers.

Yet those who survived were hardened by their experiences. The real enemy however, was the Atlas Military. They had better equipment, better training, better armaments and every soldier was a worthy opponent. Herman could never forget the time they were raiding a Schnee train when Beckendorf opened a carriage only to reveal that it was full of Atlesian Knights. Even after they dove out as the train was derailed, those mechanized monstrosities kept on coming regardless of the artillery that pounded the White Fang's position. And the missions only got harder from then on.

At the same time, Herman began training in the 'Pit', an advanced training course. It consisted of the steep climbs up 90-degree inclines, sharp drops and turns, coupled with mines, stake traps and whatnot. Aside from that, Herman had to cross multiple ridges under machine-gun fire, ford fast-flowing rivers and deal with whatever Grimm got in his way.

The true loss came when Herman turned 17. He walked in exhausted from his mission, but noticed that something was wrong about his room. Heidi's bed was perfectly made, her possessions gone. Alarmed, he walked over only to find that she was not there. His scroll beeped, and Herman lifted his gauntlet to see that it was a message from Heidi.

 _Dear Herman, I'm so sorry I never got to say goodbye. My division was transferred to Vale and I had to leave during the night while you were out. We'll always be friends, and maybe someday we'll meet again."_

It wasn't until he finished the message that he realized that he was crying.

A few days later, Flash came to his room and he said what Herman wanted to hear most.

"You're ready for your first op, kid. Suit up and meet me at Clyde's office."


	6. Planning

Chapter 6: Planning

When Herman entered the room, he saw that the entire group was there standing at the table as Clyde rolling out a map of Atlas. Herman took his place beside Hassan who acknowledged his presence with a nod.

"I'm not going to lie about this; this may be one of the hardest we've ever done." Clyde began, before his quivering hand shot out to the map, the callused finger resting on a small dot labelled 'Garrison'. By reading the scale, Herman saw it was only 21 Km from Atlas.

"This is one of them Atlas Garrison settlements, and our objective is to strike at its munitions dump. We're going to plant a bomb and get out. However, we have to be fast; this being close to Atlas, it means that reinforcements will arrive quickly and we cannot afford to get pinned down in there unless you want to get evaporated in the explosion." Clyde said, determination shining in his eyes. His rabbit ears twitched, whether from excitement or nervousness Herman couldn't tell.

"What about the defenders inside the city?" Warren asked, face impassive.

"Being so close to Atlas; these boys have gotten lax. There will hardly be any infantry or their knights." Clyde confidently stated.

"Can this be done silently?" It was Hassan's turn to speak up.

"I'm afraid not as we are bound to be spotted as we leave the vehicle. Hey, don't look at me like that, you'll be providing sniper support, out of harm's way. Anyway, the first part will involve us infiltrating the settlement. We have acquired some Atlas transport vehicles from our last train heist and in those we will be transported inside the base. The requisite documents have also been procured, not that we'd need those. They'll hardly bother to check up on the vehicles. Then we will disembark from the motor pool where we will be noticed," at this point Clyde pulled out a map of the base "Enter the facility by staff access B and push our way down to the security room, where we will disable communications and safety structures. Then we have to fight our way past the Barracks and the munition dump ought to be right past the armory. Plant the bomb, then leave. The minimum safe distance, so far as I'm told is the settlement walls. We'll hightail it to the south gate of the facility, where our own men will be waiting with vehicles, ready to take us to Vale. Any questions?" Clyde concluded.

"Tell me about the bomb." Flash requested

"It's a standard 16 pounds of plastic explosive infused with fire dust. Why?" Clyde replied, slightly puzzled.

"Eh, I was wondering if I could procure one of these babies for later." Flash said, grinning.

Herman raised his hand before Clyde could respond

"Why are we going to Vale instead of the Atlas base?"

"That's classified information, son. All I know is that after this mission a great shitstorm will be spun up in Atlas, and all essential personnel are being evacuated. I've heard rumors of a larger operation in Vale, but I can't tell you more. Anything else? No? Good, let's get our equipment."

They filed out of the room and headed to the armory, where Herman was taken aback by the dust rounds, explosives and weapons that adorned the racks. He could've sworn all of this wasn't there a few weeks ago. Flash grinned upon noticing his reaction.

"Pretty sweet, huh? All this is a present from this guy called Roman Torch...Torchick. Yeah, that's probably his name. Anyway, they say he is the finest thief in all of Vale."

"And now he's my favorite thief." Hassan purred, lovingly stroking a formidable sniper rifle. The scope glinted in the dim light as he shouldered the weapon, slamming the box-like magazine in.

"Grauer, catch!" Clyde tossed a belt of ammunition boxes at the wolf. It was heavy, yet Herman effortlessly snatched it from the air. He could see that it had 12 50 round boxes for Nihil, 6 with 'I' for incendiary marked on them, 3 with 'AG' for anti-gravity and 3 with 'W' for wind.

"The wind ones are blanks loaded with wind dust, so they'll knock back enemies but not necessarily kill them." Clyde explained as he inspected his own weapon, a heavy-barreled assault rifle with mounted holographic sights and an underslung 40mm grenade launcher. Meanwhile, Warren picked up a small machine gun with a folding buttstock, foregrip and it's two magazines were taped together, jungle-style. He grunted in satisfaction upon looking over it.

They wordlessly tried on their chest rigs, body armor ("not that you'd need it," Flash said with a wink), helmets, uniforms and Grimm masks on. In Hassan's case he had a ghillie suit on.

"Alright men, in two hours we are heading out. Meet up on the surface launching pad." Clyde barked, the squad moving out. Flash and Warren went to the canteen while Hassan elected to head to the shooting range.

That left Clyde and Herman. The senior officer walked to him and put his arm on the recruit's shoulder.

"This is your first op, so stay low and stay close. Follow my orders and we'll make it through. Most importantly-" Clyde swung around so they were face to face "-never hesitate. The enemy will not."

"I understand, sir." Herman replied, impassive.

Clyde patted his shoulder

"Get something light to eat. That's an order." Herman walked out, and Clyde couldn't help but feel a bit proud of the soldier he made. He was damn better that those meathead privates in the Atlas Military, cocky enough to talk shit to a sergea-

Clyde tightened his fist. He couldn't let his past haunt him. But one thing was for sure.

Ironwood was going to get what was coming for him.


	7. The Op

Chapter 7: The Op

An hour after the finally arrived above ground, the stealth bullhead arrived as the crimson sun sank beneath the horizon and the skies darkened. Herman nervously shuffled his heavy rucksack, wondering if he shouldn't have stuffed his sherwani and trousers in along with the extra gear. The squad wordlessly climbed aboard and the craft took off towards another, smaller outpost where Hassan in his ghillie suit got on a motorbike and sped off as the rest got into an Atlas Transport vehicle. They sat in the back, in the sealed cargo bay while their driver, a human clad in worker overalls was handed a set of documents by Clyde. Everyone but Herman did not seem surprised by this, and Herman spent the next half an hour theorizing why they were working with a human. The truck rattled along the dusty, potholed road to their final destination. As the trip wore on, Herman could feel butterflies dancing in his stomach and became aware of the soreness in his clenched hands. Flash took notice of this and handed him a stick of gum, which he gratefully accepted.

Approximately 2 hours later Clyde slid the grill separating the cargo bay and driver's section shut. By the slowing down of the truck, Herman could tell that they had arrived at the settlement. Somewhere in the night, a child cried, causing Herman to shift nervously in his seat. The truck drove past the frontier gate with no incident, and was approaching the base entrance, where it came to a halt. Herman could hear the footsteps of a soldier approach, making him throw his reservations to the wind. The driver rolled the window down and thrust the papers out, and the squad could hear their conversation.

"Standard delivery. Rations, tools, the works. Authorized by Major Grillo. He signed right down there, in case you can't read." the driver drawled in a rough, nicotine tainted voice.

"That may be the case, but I'm gonna have to check the back. Standard protocol." the sentry said, striking dread into the squad member's hearts.

"When did that become standard protocol? C'mon man, I've got a rough day, make it easy, eh?" the driver pled, yet the sentry walked on and rapped on the back.

"Sir, I'm seeing more soldiers on the walls, and five hostiles are closing in on the truck. Something's wrong." Hassan said quickly.

Clyde swore softly. This wasn't supposed to happen; how could they know? Deep down he had a niggling suspicion that someone, somewhere had leaked some info.

Seems like plan 1 went to shit, but a good officer always has a contingency.

"Open the back now!" The sentry yelled. Herman could hear the marching boots that signaled the arrival of more soldiers. Clyde slid open the grill and hissed.

"Hit it!"

The driver floored the accelerator, causing the soldiers to issue shouts of alarm. The vehicle smashed through the main barrier and drove forth at full speed.

"Take a right, then a left at the PX. Keep going straight-" Clyde was interrupted by a sudden rocking of the vehicle, caused by an Atlas soldier leaping in front of the vehicle and stopping it with his armored hands. The driver, undeterred pulled out a SMG and let a few rounds loose at the unprotected mouth of the soldier, the bullets punching through the truck glass easily. There was no more resistance, and the truck drove on. The alarm began to wail, alerting the base to the intrusion. Soldiers stumbled out of their barracks, heading to the armory to collect their ammunition as the guards pursued the invaders.

Clyde could see that in front of them, a hangar door slid open and out stepped a hulking, ungainly beast of metal; an Atlesian Paladin.

"What was that?!" Herman yelled. He had heard the huge explosion and the clomp of the Paladin's foot as it came against tarmac. Bullets started rebounding off the sides of the vehicle and the squad threw themselves to the floor, save Clyde.

"Cut across the field, NOW!" he ordered, but there was a sudden hail of bullets from the right. Glass shattered and the driver fell forward, blood staining interior. Worst of all, the truck was now heading straight for the Paladin. Clyde thrust his arm forward, grabbing the wheel and jerking it violently to the right. Herman fell hard against the side of the vehicle and Warren slammed into him, causing his ribs to hurt as the air was knocked out of his lungs. There was a groaning sound as the vehicle skidded across the tarmac and overturned. The cereal he had earlier began to rise in his throat.

Meanwhile, Clyde had reached forward enough to hit the release button on the dashboard. The back of the cargo bay opened and the squad could hear multiple soldiers approach. Wasting no time, Flash pulled an EMP grenade from his belt and tossed it outside. The following blast disabled their systems, their protective armors, light as a feather now becoming heavy metal coffins instead.

"GO! GO!GO!" Warren barked, getting of Herman.

The team immediately disembarked and wasted no time in putting the struggling men down. Herman hesitated before firing at one such unfortunate soul, but then Clyde's orders flashed into his mind.

Never hesitate, and he didn't.

Herman pulled the trigger and the man jerked out, then went still as the bullets punched past his armor and into his chest. The cries of reinforcements carried over the wind. They had to move, quickly.

There was a smash as the Paladin trampled the battered vehicle, and Herman turned around to see the huge steel beast tower over the squad, weapons ready. All of them dived out of the way as it fired its machineguns, the bullets arcing perilously close to them as they crawled through the thick grass. At least it wasn't using its other armnaments, Clyde thought as he hugged the dirt.

"Flash! Stick it's front, the pilot's compartment!" Clyde ordered as he fired a grenade round at the Paladin, staggering the titan. Herman switched his magazine to an 'AG' one and fired at its legs, causing in to stumble and sink upon one leg. This allowed Flash to grab two semtex grenades from his belt and toss them at the very front. The explosives beeped and exploded, yet the mechanical beast began to rise, retargeting them. There was an almighty crack of Hassan's rifle, the bullet hitting and penetrating the weakened frontal armor. The Paladin's limbs fell limp, a medium sized bullet hole in the front as it keeled over, crashing to the ground.

There was no time to reflect on this as three soldiers rushed their position, swords ready. Warren dodged out of the way of the recruit's swing and brought his large hairy hands with full force around the soldier's head, who promptly fell to the ground. Clyde kicked the one who came for him, sending the now winded man to his knees , dropping his weapon in the process. He raised his hands in surrender, but to no avail. Clyde's assault rifle roared out. In Herman's case, Nihil was out in its chainsword form, teeth whirring, striking fear in the unlucky recruit who rushed him. The young soldier hesitated, and in this hesitation Herman dropped to one knee and swung low, the weapon cutting across the enemy's unarmored waist. The harsh smell of blood, along with the sickly squelch of his entrails spilling caused Herman to retch, shaking slightly. Clyde pulled him up and pushed him forward.

"Keep moving private! We got more hostiles on our six!"

Was this what it was like to kill someone? Was this the true intent of a huntsman's weapon?

What would his father think of him now?

Herman shook his head, trying to clear his mind. There would be time for brooding later. As he switched Nihil to the LMG form once more, Herman could still see his hands were still white and shaking. They managed to cross the field, bullets whistling over them as they crouched and ran. Herman could see a large warehouse loom in front of them, with a few smaller ones nearby.

"Large one's got most of the munitions. Keep moving!" Clyde shouted over the din of battle. A guard tower's spotlight caught them and the warehouse guards redirected their fire to the squad, causing them to hit the dirt once more. Now they were taking fire from both directions, and they were not going to last long. A mounted HMG emplacement far to their right tore through their position, and Herman felt three or four rounds punch into him. If he didn't have his Aura, he'd be dead. And if he didn't take that spotlight out, they all would be dead. The Atlas soldiers were getting closer now; there was no time to hesitate. Herman rose through the grass, ignoring the shouts from his teammates. He hefted Nihil and fired three short bursts at the tower, shattering the light and plunging the field into darkness; however almost immediately the Atlas troopers activated their NVD's and continued firing. At least the crew-served HMG couldn't see them and it ceased firing in fear of hitting its own troops.

Herman took a few more bullets, but it didn't matter. His mind was on autopilot as he fired into the enemy line, tearing holesman and machine , like one punches holes in paper. Flash tossed another grenade behind them, this one an incendiary. The dry grass caught fire easily, and with the wind blowing downwind it spread away from them, causing the unarmored soldiers to flee in panic. Another gunshot from an unknown direction; and the HMG emplacement exploded, the orange red flames illuminating the plains, the thick black smoke visible for miles away.

Clyde and Flash rose from the grass, finishing off the rest who had been blinded and panicked by the explosion.

But Warren did not rise. His groans alerted them and as they approached his position they could see that he had bought it, badly. Several holes appeared in various parts of his massive frame, shining dark red. He tried to speak, but only coughed, blood mixed with spittle rising from his throat. Herman felt awful. Only if he had reacted faster, Warren would have been saved. His mind lingered upon Warren's sister and mother? How would they fare, when told that their only support was gone? Though he never met them, he knew the lingering, hungry feeling of poverty. After his father was injured, times were rough, and sometimes he went to bed hungry. Herman's eyes felt moist.

"No..no no no! Stay with us, man!" Flash was struck by grief, sinking to his knees as he grabbed Warren's medical kit, trying in vain to stabilize his fatal condition.

"He's dying and we can't do anything. And you will join him, if you don't get a move on." Clyde said harshly. As if to prove his point, Warren shuddered, then lay still, eyes rolling back into his head. Herman couldn't be sure, but it seemed like Warren was...smiling? Flash was silent as he closed Warren's eyes. He rose and shouldered his weapon.

"Let's go." his voice emotionless, eyes downcast.

The 3 now moved quickly across the tarmac, dealing with the scattered reinforcements. 4Atlas knights appeared, but they were immediately taken out by an EMP grenade.

"Seems like they didn't fix the problem on those 130s." Clyde snorted derisively while Flash grunted. They reached the side entrance and stacked up against the scroll-locked door as Flash aimed his shotgun at the hinges.

"Stand back."

The gun roared, and the rusty metal gave way to the buckshot. Clyde kicked it and Flash charged in, weapon ready. Herman followed.

The place was huge inside. It had multiple shelves which reached all the way to the roof, with hundreds upon hundreds of crates stacked, towering above them. Herman felt uneasy; he swore he saw something move in a dark corner. Flash had seen it too and he became apprehensive.

"We're not alo-" he fell to the ground, silenced by an invisible force. Suddenly, there was a blur as something-no someone leapt out of the shadows, both feet planted on Clyde's chest. The rabbit fell back and the bomb clattered to the ground. Their assailant turned around, and Herman raised his weapon.

"Hold it!" he barked.

The fair skinned, blue eyed and blond-haired man smirked from behind his bandit's mask. Who was this White Fang scum to give him orders? And a young pup at that. He took a step forward and bent to grab the bomb...

... then was knocked flat on his rear as the boy opened fire, the wind rounds knocking the specialist back. He gritted his teeth, incensed as he drew his jet black silenced pistol which had a mounted bayonet, the rounds reflecting off his Aura as he used his semblance. He took aim, and was promptly tackled to the ground by Clyde, sending the gun sliding into the darkness. Herman stopped firing, not wanting to hit Clyde as the men struggled, and he dove forward, grabbing the explosive. He had recognized the opponent as an Atlas Specialist by the nature of his weapon and actions, yet he was amazed at his opponent's carelessness.

He could hear the sound of marching boots and stomping metal feet approaching the warehouse. They needed to act fast.

"Herman! Detonate it now!" Clyde screamed. The Specialist had him pinned, yet the White Fang operative held the hand of the Specialist wielding the gun, which was now a large jagged dagger away and had grasped him by the throat by his free hand. Slowly but surely, the Specialist's dagger came closer to Clyde's face, a fraction of an inch away from his skin. The marching was getting louder, and Herman felt raw cold fear strike within him. The crying child was back in his mind, and Herman's finger hovered over the detonator.

"DO IT!" Clyde screamed as the dagger tore into his skin.

A good soldier follows orders, and Herman had his. An Atlesian Knight entered, weapon ready.

But it was too late. Herman's hand hit the button, and he closed his eyes as the shockwave enveloped him, triggering the munition fuses. There was a loud blast, then a neverending screeching in Herman's ears. Heat washed over him.

Then the intense as gone; and the screeching gone.

The wolf opened his eyes, and he was back home, sitting contentedly by the hearth. The morning light shone from the windows as the birds chirped. His mother sat by the table, holding hands with her husband. They looked at him and smiled, and Herman was content, for he knew everything would be all right.

Then the door was smashed down, and in came the last person Herman wanted to see. But he couldn't seem to do anything about it.

"NO!" he cried out, raising his hands uselessly.

The PMC raised his weapon and fired. Caleb fell over, his brains staining the table. Lydia leapt back towards the window, violet eyes dilated in shock, and Herman could only watch in dread as a huge, pitch black hairy beast with red eyes extended its arm, shattering the glass, grabbing the helpless woman. It howled in delight as it tore into her, her screams echoing in Herman's head. The home began to warp and distort as the comforting crackling of the hearth fire swelled to a raging inferno. Burying his head in his hands, he sobbed, trying to wake up from this nightmare. A rough hand grabbed him, and he looked up at the hated PMC.

"It's never going to be all right for you kid; not after what you did." he snarled as he dragged a kicking and screaming Herman with him into darkness and cold; into _fear_.

"You're suffering isn't over yet." he said with a hint of laughter in his voice, "It's never going to be over."


	8. Aftermath

DRONE LINK: INITATED, the main screen in the Atlas command center beeped. Ironwood watched, fists clenched as the drone now began to assess the damage of the shattered settlement.

BASE DAMAGE: 100%

CIVILIAN PROPERTY DAMAGE: 98%

STRUCTURAL INTEGRITY OF WALLS: 15%

DEFENSES: OFFLINE

MILITARY CASUALTIES: 99.9%

CIVILIAN CASUALTIES: UNKNOWN

A vein dilated above his right eye, and the technicians in the room busied themselves in their computers, unwilling to catch his attention. The only person unfazed was Winter Schnee, his right-hand man-or woman.

"How could this have happened?" he asked, anger in his voice.

"We received reports of a possible White Fang operation, and these were forwarded to the Major in charge of the Garrison." she replied coolly.

"Then why am I looking at this?" bringing his quivering finger up, pointing at the screen.

Winter recalled the conversation she had with the Major in charge.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 _"Double the guard. Check all incoming shipments and scan the surrounding area for movements." she ordered over the comm line._

 _"Calm down, Winter-" his languid voice and disrespect for rank angering the Schnee, yet she said nothing as he spoke "-those filthy animals can barely fight one of our own men, what makes you think they can do anything against a garrison."_

 _"I would not be so sure if I was you. Know this; your failure to discharge your duty will result in serious repercussions for you." Winter said icily._

 _"But you're not me. So, chill." with that he disconnected._

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

She sighed. She would need to open a case file on Specialist Robert Aurum, to find out how this idiot passed inspection on the first day.

She would have thought a fellow specialist would have appreciated the gravity of the situation. She was wrong. Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden call from Robert Aurum himself. Bringing her scroll up, she narrowed her eyes. Why would he call her privately? Probably begging her to save his ass.

"It's from the Major in charge, General." she said, handing the scroll to him.

Ironwood picked up, and even though the loudspeaker was not active Winter could hear the desperation in the Specialist's voice.

"Winter! You've got to help me! Ironwood's gonna have my head on a plat-" the unlucky specialist squeaked.

"This is General Ironwood, Major." he barked, and Winter could tell by how Robert had stopped talking that he was afraid.

"Tell me, how, when you were warned of an incoming attack, you still failed." Ironwood commanded.

"Uh-the-the thing is s-sir, that we...we sort of underestimated them..." came Robert's faltering voice

Another vein dilated in Ironwood's forehead.

"Several thousand people are dead because of your 'underestimation'. Now listen well; I expect you to surrender to the next commander that arrives in your position and immediately arrive at headquarters. Failure to do so will mean that your allegiance clearly lies elsewhere. Do you understand?" without waiting for an answer, he closed the call.

"Winter, open his case file and prepare a few military judges for a court martial." he sighed. The council was going to give him hell, and on top of that he had to head to Beacon in a few weeks or so for the Vytal competition. Meanwhile Winter busied herself in the task she was given.

Immediately though, various distress calls appeared on the screen, which zoomed out to a map of Solitas itself. Various bases, settlements, garrisons and units began to flash red, the dots scattered all over the map. Technicians scrambled to take the many emergency calls, and Ironwood was taken aback. But he couldn't show weakness; soon he was dictating orders to be transmitted to his subordinates.

It seemed the White Fang had gone on a major offensive against the unprepared Atlas targets. Ironwood was enraged, unable to understand how the normally covert terrorist group had been able to gather its forces for such an offensive. His mind lingered upon the escape and sightings of Roman Torchwick, master thief, and the corresponding rise in White Fang activity. The link was inseparable; how could they not have seen it?

Deep down, he knew why. Years of inactivity save the occasional Grimm problem made them complacent. It had made them weak. But now they would rise with their might and crush this insurgency. Finishing one call, he brought up two of his finer subordinates via videolink.

"Lieutenant General Alexi Stukov and Admiral Jones Sterling will be provided the Atlesian 200 Models. You will also have full access to Fort Niantic's resources in the north. Use it as a staging post for your operations."

"Are you sure, sir? That Fort has our finest troops and resources. Also, those models haven't seen action yet." Stukov asked.

"This insurgency threatens to drown us in fire. Not until the military steamroller has passed from top to bottom of Solitas will it be quelled. Thus, I provide you with the resources to carry this campaign out. After today, the White Fang will cease to be a force for we are the foremost military power in Remnant. You say these new models have not been tested yet; well this shall be a fine opportunity. Do not let me down gentlemen." Ironwood concluded, leaving no place for discussion.

"Understood, General." They disconnected.

The screen returned to the drone carrying out its assessment of the town.

The main screen beeped, turning everyone's attention to it.

HOSTILE DETECTED, it said, the drone camera zooming in.

A young man, or perhaps even a boy wearing digital patterned clothing and wielding a barbaric-looking onyx black chainsword stumbled through the ruins. The Grimm mask obscured his features, but one thing was evident:

He was of the White Fang. Of their famed special operations group, judging by his uniform and the method in which they had attacked last night. If reports were to be believed, all of them died in the blast, save for a sniper. And now this boy. If captured, he could yield vital information. The gears began to turn in Ironwood's mind.

"Organize a squad now and take him in! Use anything you've got!" Ironwood barked, slamming his fist on the table. The technicians began to type out orders to regional officers.

"S-Sir...it seems like most of our specialists are engaged in the conflict. So are most of the android and human infantry divisions." A young technician stuttered nervously. Ironwood gritted his teeth. Although confident in his student's abilities, he knew the finest, the most suited for the mission were training for the competition. Running a school administration and the running of the army was a difficult task; he had to balance it somehow. He couldn't fail on any front. He trusted Stukov and Jonas to discharge their duty... but he had to answer to the council; to pacify them somehow. Naturally they would be upset by this turn of events. But Ironwood had an answer; the little rat's head on a platter presented to them. Justice would be done and everyone would be happy.

But who to send? Everyone seemed to be busy at this critical moment. The soldiers and specialists against the Fang and he would not want to risk his students before the Vytal Festival. He could spare an air division, maybe even a few troops, but more was required.

Then an idea came to him; though admittedly it wasn't one he'd like. He'd have to rely on a friend.

Ozpin.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Herman awoke upon a rough, uneven surface. Thick grey hazy smoke surrounded him and he could barely see five feet ahead. Coughing and choking, the smoke filling his lungs, he slowly got off the concrete and steel rubble.

"Looks like the monster has awoken." came the harsh unwelcome voice from behind him. Herman swung around to see the same damn PMC from his...nightmare? It had felt so real. The pain and misery of the event flooded through him and with a cry he rushed the merc...

...only to see he was no longer there.

"Heh. You might be a damn savage, but that doesn't change what you have done." the PMC mocked. Herman swung around to see the bearded man grinning-not a pleasant sight. It looked like a predator before it devoured its prey.

"How the fuck are you still alive! I saw you die!" Herman raged, blue eyes dilated in shock.

"There's more than one way of living, monster." the older man sneered.

"Why the fuck are you calling me that?!" the boy snarled, getting ready to attack.

"You'll see soon. You'll see." he ominously repeated, walking into the dust.

"Come back you bastard! I'm not done with you!" Herman raged, charging after him. But the PMC gave no reply, nor was he seen.

Herman was now confused and angry. He had to get out, for he knew deep down that there was no way Flash or Clyde could have survived that blast. Not without an Aura. He hoped the specialist had died too. His commlink was busted, and he jerked it out and threw it away in disgust. He'd have to find Hassan.

Herman continued walking through the smoke, which was clearing now. Good, he'd soon find a way through all this rubble, although he was slightly awed by the destructive power of Dust.

Then as the smoke lifted, he saw and heard and smelt the full majesty of what he had done.

First was the assault upon his sensitive nostrils. The stench of putrefaction was thick as the smoke, and it was accompanied by a harsh metallic tang, one Herman was accustomed to. The smell of blood.

Second came the attack upon his Faunus ears. Wailing, screaming, groaning and moaning. The sounds of a dying, shattered people, a ghastly orchestra of pain. Young voices mixed with the old; Faunus howls and human cries.

Third came the offensive sights. The smoke had mostly lifted now, and all Herman could see were shattered bodies. Large limbs and small torsos littered the rubble, old wrinkled hands peeked out from beneath the wreckage, a pair of legs, fins half torn off poked out from the remains of a building. The torn bodies of Faunus and Humans were everywhere.

But the worst were those who lived. Some of those limbs still twitched helplessly, their unseen owners gibbering and squeaking. A large, powerfully built man seemed puny and insignificant as he wept, crouched in the destruction, clutching a small package to his chest. A Faunus girl, a little fox wept as she tried in vain to wake another, older Faunus girl up, her fox ears flat upon her head. A skinny, gaunt eyed human woman desperately scrambled across the ruin, trying to look for someone or something.

Herman could only stand in horror as he saw the Hell he had created, his guts rising up to his throat. Was this what the White Fang worked for? Equality in death and destruction for humanity and Faunus?

His spine and skull started to tingle, tiny charges of electricity dancing up and down. His hands shook, and his face turned pale as chalk.

Was this what he worked for? Deep down, in the darkest recesses of his soul, Herman knew that this would happen. They had discussed the bomb; he knew of the civilians; he knew they would be affected. So why didn't he stop it?

Because he was a coward, blinded by misguided vengeance. A coward, who would have planted the bomb and fled far, far away, had the Atlas military not tried to stop them.

His father and mother would hate him for the monster he had become. Herman looked down at his bloodstained hands, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. He could've stopped this, he could've spoken out or not even have joined the Fang. He didn't speak out, because he was afraid. He didn't speak out for the humans, because he was not one. He didn't speak out for the Faunus, because he was not that either. And now, he realized with dread, no-one would speak out for him when terrible justice descended upon Herman Grauer.

A sudden movement, and Herman's instincts kicked in. The same blond haired gaunt woman who was scrambling about the ruins had acquired a knife. She swung too slowly, for the boy had nimbly dodged and brought Nihil down upon her in an overhead arc. Unarmored, without an Aura, the chainsword teeth hissed as they cut through muscle and bone, eviscerating flesh and shattering bone, cleaving across her body. Herman watched, eyes dilated, disgusted as she fell back, the body separated into two halves with a meaty _schlick_ , from her upper right shoulder to her lower left abdomen.

As she came apart, Herman felt the charges dance up and down his spine with greater intensity, and his eyes began to burn as the enviroment began to decolorize slightly.

The half Faunus couldn't hold it back anymore. He fell to his knees and puked, rising on shaky knees after a minute. He felt groggy and sick, and felt the piercing hot gaze of the shocked survivors. Even then, he felt an odd sense of elation in his heart. It shook and send little currents dancing about his skin.

"MONSTER!" one yelled, the rest joining in.

"YOU KILLED THEM ALL!"

"CURSE THE FANG!"

They closed in, ready to swarm. But then one man was tackled to the ground by a hairy beast which began to tear into him. More Grimm followed, howling in delight as their prey began to flee in panic. A large shadow flew over the skies, raining quills upon the populace, a few landing close to Herman. Herman wordlessly stumbled past the slaughter, not caring where he was going. The Grimm were all around him, yet none attacked. Well, maybe one or two did, but Herman acted as he was trained to; he killed them. It seemed to get easier now. Perhaps he had become one of them; a true soulless monster, uncaring, unceasing in its desire to kill. Or perhaps there were juicer, weaker targets.

He found himself at the remains of the boundary wall. Wordlessly, he stumbled out and into the hills, where he collapsed to his knees. He felt empty inside, and all the good, all the color seemed to have drained out of the world.

The bushed rustled, and Herman hoped that it was a Grimm, finally coming to kill him.

"Private! Good to see that you survived, come on, we must go!" came Hassan's sickly-sweet voice.

 _The assassin hesitantly approached the boy, noticing that he was crying. Hassan felt uneasy; he had no experience in comforting stricken soldiers, that was what Clyde was for. But Clyde was dead. As he approached the kneeling boy, unwelcome memories forced themselves into the cat's mind._

 _A crying Faunus boy in a dark Vacuo alleyway, kneeling over the body of a robed man. A large, jagged knife protruded from his back. Another robed figure came from the shadows and placed its soft hand on the boy's shoulder._

 _"Some may question your right to end another's life, but we understand that you had no right to let your targets live" it spoke in a smooth sweet voice. The boy looked up at the cloaked figure, and took its hand, being willingly led to the darkness._

Hassan shook his head. Of all the times, now was not the right one for bittersweet memories. Placing his hand on the boy's shoulder, he spoke.

"We've got to get back to base. A truck is waiting for us 5 clicks south."

Herman pulled off his Grimm mask and tossed it away. Emotionlessly, he said,

"Get your hand off. I'm done with the fucking White Fang."

Hassan's eyes dilated in shock, and he stood there for a long while. Uncertain of what he to do, he looked around as the Grimm roared, and unlatched the strap of his handgun. Seizing Herman by the shoulder, he spoke.

"There is no time! Are you so eager to join our comrades?" He shook the Private vigorously, but got no response. "Damn it, I know what you saw there. I've seen it many times before as well! Get fucking moving, that's an order!"

"Are you deaf? I said I'm done." Herman barked back, shoving his superior away. Hassan stared wide-eyed.

"Private Grauer! As the lone surviving officer of this squad, I command you to-"

"If you think I wanted this, any of this, you're out of your mind, I was trapped the moment I put on this uniform!" Herman cried out, clutching his head. He still felt the sickly chills of pleasure even as the gruesome sights swam before his eyes.

"You signed up for this, boy. You knew what you were in for, so take some goddamn responsibility! You're in it now, up to your neck!" He whipped out his pistol. "You got me in the mood to use this thing, and by God, if you don't get your ass in gear, I'll use it on you! I mean it."

...but the wolf wasn't there anymore. An armored fist struck Hassan in the side, and the cat recoiled, gun arm outstretched. There was a whirring noise, and Hassan's vision cleared.

The pistol wasn't there anymore. Hassan looked down to his arm, which now lay at his feet. Then he looked at the eviscerated flesh of his right shoulder, white bone peeking out from red rags. His mind connected the events and he let out a guttural cry of pain, falling to the ground, darkness closing around him.

Herman did not feel remorse as he did for the poor woman he had sawed apart. Instead he felt ice cold fury spread through his body. The White Fang were responsible for all of this. They had made him a pawn in their little petty power struggle, drilled him to become a killer, caused him to bring grief and suffering.

He wouldn't disappoint, for now he would bring a little grief and suffering for them too. But he needed a set of objectives, something to guide him. He brought his gauntlet up, typing on the embedded scroll, walking off into the wild.

He needed to get to South-East Vale

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Meanwhile, at the covert White Fang base, Adam Taurus watched the havoc unfold. With satisfaction he saw how the boy exceeded his expectations and set the bomb; then with disappointment he watched how the boy had savaged Hassan. For a moment he had allowed himself to believe that he could have a truly powerful weapon at his disposal, but his experience with Blake should've taught him better. Well, it seems like he would have to make do with Mercury and Emerald. And Cinder.

At least the boy had discharged his duty, and now they could safely relocate to Vale and continue phase 2 of their operation. Yet Adam felt slightly uneasy about Herman Grauer. He had to be put down somehow before Atlas got him. Utilizing his scroll, he assigned 5th Covert Division to tracking him down. Banishing the boy from his mind, he strode out of the command center.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

They found Major Specialist Robert Aurum among the ruins, surrounded by multiple dissipating Grimm corpses. In his arms he clutched a pile of bloody rags, with strands of straw yellow hair strewn about. He silently allowed them to cuff him, and take him into the bullhead. Sinking to the cold metal floor, he sobbed freely.


	9. The Hunt Begins

Chapter 9: The Hunt Begins

Ozpin sat in his office, contemplating recent events. The release of Torchwick, the robberies, the resurgence of the White Fang. Especially the duel between his students in Vale, and the mass attacks in Atlas. The world was shaken and afraid, and it would be when one of it's largest titans, the Atlesian Military appeared to be so weak. Some whispered it's end was near.

But Ozpin knew the truth of the matter. Atlas would rise and become even stronger in the face of adversity. After all, Ironwood was-or rather still is a very capable commander, and it would take more than an insurgency to bring about the fall of Atlas. What perplexed him was the sudden dwindling-down on White Fang attacks, as if the great forces that suddenly rose up had melted back into the shadows. Every day there were continued reports of caches and bases found, and the occasional shoot-out, but no greater resistance. As if they were biding their stenght and time for something else. With the Vytal festival approaching, he had to uncover the truth somehow.

Ozpin sighed and lay back in his chair, taking a sip of coffee. It was late in the night; he was unsure how many hours had passed with him trying to figure out the pattern of events. Maybe he should take a nap; caffeine couldn't fuel him forever. His eyelids felt heavy and drifted down.

A sudden ringing of his scroll blew his sleep away. Jerking back into action, he grabbed it and saw it was a call from Ironwood, James. What did the General want? Connecting it to his workstation so they could face one another real time, Ozpin picked up.

"Ozpin! I'm glad you picked up; I wasn't sure you would be awake." James said, worry and concern evident in his face.

Ozpin raised an eyebrow. There was something...desperate in Jame's voice.

"Friends are always available for one another. What is it? You look extremely stressed; I thought the insurgents are not giving you much trouble anymore." Ozpin cooly replied, keeping his facial expression impassive.

"It's their lack of activity which concerns me. One moment they strike out with force; the other moment they dissappear for a while, we get relaxed and they hit us again. Yes, the news treats each cache found and each dead terrorist as a success, but the politicians in the council and the pacifist media start to raise hell with these discoveries. They think we can negotiate with the terrorists-" Ironwood derisively snorted. "Ontop of that, there are outrageous rumors floating about, and nobody trusts anyone anymore. Faunus-Human tensions are getting worse." Ironwood concluded. He sank back in his chair, looking tired and defeated.

"Well, I wish you luck in your effort to bring peace; but may I ask what all this has to do with me? I am a simple headmaster; I am sure you have more pressing matters that require your time." Ozpin said smoothly. James sighed. Now was the time to ask his help.

"I require your assistance."

"The world's strongest military requires my help?" Ozpin, eyebrow still raised, slightly tilted his head to the left.

"Yes. I require a few of your students to help me track down an important target." Ironwood's manner was now brisk and business-like, the exhaustion on his face having seemingly evaporated.

"I suppose the nature of this target prohibits the large-scale use of your mighty battalions, but why don't you use your own specialists and students. Are they not capable for the task?" Ozpin continued to question, and he could note a slight dilation above Ironwood's right eye.

"The...truth of the matter is that all of our assests are involved in the conflict. Please, Ozpin, ignore the fact that I'm a general right now. This target may very well be the key to unravelling these past events. As a friend, I ask your assistance." Ironwood pleaded, though the dilation was not yet gone.

Ozpin considered it. He had to ensure the safety of Beacon, and he desired the same answers Ironwood was seeking. If the target could bring him that, then fine. At any rate, Ozpin was not one to leave a friend in the lurch.

"Very well. I will provide assistance at one condition; the target is brought to Beacon, so both of us can interrogate it." Ironwood could not resist, though Ozpin now noted that that there was a dilation above Ironwood's left eye now.

"Very well. I'll send you the details." with that the video link was closed. The general's voice told him that he was not pleased. Ah well, sometimes the price to pay for answers was a momentary loss of affection. Looking over the team roster, Ozpin allowed a groan to escape his lips. All fourth,third and second year teams were busy, and only the first years remained available. Still, this mission could prove useful in terms of experience for these young huntresses and huntsmen; but who to send? Only the ones who had shown the most proficiency in classes could be sent; and only two displayed such skill.

Teams RWBY and JNPR. Saving a reminder in his scroll notes; Ozpin lay back in his chair. He was asleep before he even knew it.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ironwood rubbed his eyes, thinking he had made too many concessions. Some may argue that changing the locale of interrogation was a mere change; but Ironwood was the sort of man who would prefer to have everything on his home ground, so he could run the show. Ozpin may be a friend, but matters of state security always come first. Still, there was no changing things now.

Ironwood returned to his scroll. They had managed to acquire the teeth of one of the attackers, and the lab reports indicated that it was none other than the dishonoroubly discharged Master Sergeant Clyde 'Roux' Johnson. He remembered the fellow; one of the few Faunus in the Atlesian military. Most of the Faunus population in Atlas distrusted the Atlas military, seeing them as oppressors of Faunuskind, their sympathies lying with the White Fang instead. And who could blame them? A great many atrocities were carried out by Mistral troops in the Great War. But Ironwood sought to change that mindset; Faunus recruitment was encoraged, racism discouraged. Sure, there were a few unpleasant incidents...which were a partial cause behind replacing the Human and Faunus troops with robots. Still, Ironwood felt sorrow for the Master Sergeant, who had been lost to the wrong cause. A shame, for he could have become an officer.

And all because he tried to stop the lynching of a Faunus recruit, accidentally killing another soldier in the process. That was enough for the anti-military news organ, the Atlesian Free Media to publish biased and inflammatory stories about the state of the Atlas military. The rest was political meddling by Ironwood's enemies in the council; and Clyde was the unfortunate scapegoat.

Ironwood sighed. It wouldn't do to dwell on the past, only what he did in the present mattered. Only that way he could make a better future. For now, he'd play the council's dirty game, serving the White Fang operator to them, like meat thrown to starving wolves. Ironwood also felt a certain sadness about that too. Robert Aurum, after getting out of his tear stricken funk managed to make a basic sketch, which if true suggested that the operator was a mere boy of 17, with an unlocked Aura and the skills of a huntsman in training. A waste of talent. So far they only had a few basic sketches; long-ish grey hair, high cheekbones, slightly sunken cheeks, cerulean blue eyes and a tall, well-built stature. It wasn't much, but it was something. Sending the details to Ozpin, the mighty general headed off to his quarters.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The alarm clock rang out, and immediately a milky white arm shot out from a pile of bedsheets, setting it to 'snooze'.

10 minutes later, it began to ring again, and now with the speed of a python striking at it's prey, another arm shot out from the bedsheets and set it to snooze.

15 minutes later, when the alarm rang an impressively-muscled arm shot out , hovered over the alarm for a moment, then bunched up into a fist and came down on the clock, shattering it.

Ruby immediately got out of bed.

"Good morning team," she yawned, before her jaw dropped at the sight of the destroyed alarm. "Yang! What was that for? Now we can't tell if we're late or not!"

The blond's head appeared from underneath the pillow, lilac eyes still clouded with sleep.

"It was annoying." she muttered.

"For your information, it's going to be 9 in ten minutes." the Schnee heiress said coldly as she inspected her scroll.

"We're going to be late!" Ruby squealed in panic, jerking the bedsheets of Yang's and Blake's beds, waking them up.

There was a flurry of activity as the girls tried to do multiple activities at once (Yang tried to pull her shoes on with one hand while brushing her hair with the other, Blake attempted to tighten her skirt while hiding a certain book she was reading last night, and Ruby tried brushing her teeth while eating a cookie, but ended up in scraping the cookie against her teeth and chewing on the toothbrush). Only Weiss watched as she was already dressed, unamused. Finally, when they were done Ruby opened the door, only to find Glynda Goodwitch standing there.

"Eeep!" was Ruby's response, transfixed to the spot by Glynda's glare.

"Children, you must try to adjust your schedule. Tardiness is an offence." she sighed "But I'm here to take you to Ozpin's office. Please follow me." and with that she turned on her heel and began to briskly walk away.

"Did we do something wrong?" Ruby whispered, silver eyes watery with concern. Yang ruffled her hair.

"It's probably nothing, Rubes. Calm down." she beamed, and Ruby began to relax somewhat, the group now following Glynda, wondering what Ozpin had in store for them.

Finally, they were in his office, where the great man himself sat behind his desk, sipping from his cup of coffee as usual. Team JNPR was already there, to RWBY's surprise. He motioned for the students to take a seat, which they did, shifting nervously.

"You are wondering why I brought you here. It is simple; I've got a mission for you." When Ozpin said these words, he noted the delight on everybody's faces, with the exception of Jaune, who looked a bit queasy at the prospect while Ren, Weiss and Blake remained stoic. The headmaster continued on.

"You along with a small detatchment of Atlesian soldiers will travel to Solitas to track down a certain High Value Target. The description will be uploaded to your scrolls. Find him and bring him back alive."

"Is that it, sir? Do we have a name?" said Weiss, who was perusing the description of the target.

"Firsty; Yes. All you have to do is bring him here, and I will handle the rest. Secondly we unfortunatley do not have a name, though our population scans are narrowing down the list of suspects. Aditional information will be provided when it is available." Ozpin answered.

The two teams looked at one another, then at Ozpin, unsure of what to do.

"The transport will arrive soon. I suggest you head out to the landing pad. However before you go-" the students froze as they got out of their seats "-know that you carry the honour of the school with you. I have taken a great risk to entrust you with such a mission; do not dissapoint me." Ozpin concluded.

"Yessir." came Jaune and Ruby's response, and they left. Glynda remained in the office. She noted the worry lines in Ozpin's face, the creases of his brow and the dark coloration beneath his eyes.

"Are you all right? You seem...very worn out." she asked, concerned.

"All these recent events are troubling me...and now the Vytal Festival approaches. Responsibilty is a heavy burden. It's bound to take a toll on anyone." Ozpin said, scanning the target description. His features had an unsettling resemblance, and his weapon was too similar to another former student of Beacon. Opening up a list of former students, he found it. The match could not be perfect; after all it was between a full color image and a sketch, yet the resemblance was there.

Ozpin opened up a police report from VPD's Archives. Caleb, Lydia and Herman Grauer had all been listed 'missing' after travellers found the ashes of their home. Others had mentioned an unmarked convoy passing through the area; previously in the day a Schnee Convoy had been attacked. A link was more than possible. Closing the tabs, he decided to turn his attention to the more pressing matter next weeks team activities and schedules. Yet the Grauers lingered in the back of his mind; he had but one hope, if his suspicions were proven right.

He hoped for Team RWBY's and JNPR's sakes that they came back without harm.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 **I am sorry for not sticking to the update schedule. I actually have half yearly exams this week and the next, thus there may be a brief halt in updates. Once more I apologize. If you are liking the story so far, don't forget to follow so you know when this story gets back online. Thank you very much.**


	10. The Wild

Chapter 10: The Wild

"In the White Fang's blood, my hands are cleansed, from innocents deceased, I will avenge."

Herman gritted his teeth as he stumbled through the cold alpine hills of Solitas, typing on his scroll. Though the sherwani provided some measure of warmth, he still felt the sharp bite of winter every time the wind blew. And it would only get worse as time wore on. He'd have to get to the Atlas Port quickly, or find shelter when snow began to fall. Reports indicated that lowest temperatures fell to -20 degrees Celsius; enough to freeze a Faunus's blood in his veins. At least the cold kept most of the Grimm away; it was how Atlas was able to flourish in this Oumforsaken environment. But the bastards were slowly adapting; Herman had an encounter with a Beowulf with thicker fur than the one he killed in Vale. Still didn't stop him from cutting it apart.

Water was not much of a problem, as there was light snow and the terrain was hilly, he'd often find deposits of snow which he would pack into his canteen. Food though was another matter. He didn't spot much natural wildlife; and he was down to two 'First-Strike' Rations, and old MRE which was sitting for Oum knows how long in his Rucksack and two URA! Bars, one peanut butter, the other raspberry. But those couldn't last forever. He'd have to scrounge, and bugs were neither appetizing nor plentiful in winter. Wood pine was edible, but often sour and difficult to choke down. The less said about acorn paste the better.

The true challenge was avoiding the military. He'd have to be a true shadow, staying clear of authority figures. Now that he was thinking about it, he was wondering why he hadn't seen any Atlas patrols yet. Just then, he heard the crackle of gunfire and telltale shrieks of artillery echo from the mountains south of him.

A rumbling in the sky made Herman curse; he'd jinxed it. Intelligence reports stated that their air-patrols had thermal scanners; the only way to avoid it was camouflage. But where to go? Herman sprinted amongst the trees. They got thicker as he ducked and weaved, and the ground got steeper; soon he was crawling on his hands and knees as the thorny bushes cut into his exposed hands and face. The roar of a jet engine was getting louder, and if he didn't get to cover quickly, he'd be spotted. The bushes parted, and Herman found himself at a cliff-edge. Still, there was a sufficiently thick patch of snow into which he hurdled himself, panting and gasping for breath. Packing himself in quickly, he lay still, hoping he'd concealed himself in time. The scout plane whizzed off into the horizon, and Herman stayed there for five, or maybe ten minutes before rising from his cover. Heaving a sigh of relief, he swung his legs over the ridge, noting the many protrusions and clefts in the rock from which he could descend.

He began to pick his way down, gently stepping lest the fragile rock and mud give way beneath him. Luckily it didn't, and Herman noted the lowering sun. He'd have to stop, cursing when he saw his position. To his left was the cliff, to the right the blue sky. To his front there was a gap between a wide outcropping leading to a cave and the thin shelf of rock upon which he balanced precariously. A gust of wind blew past him, causing Herman to suck in his breath and shuffle carefully. By his estimate it was five, maybe six feet away. Could he make it with his heavy gear?

No, he'd have to first toss his rucksack and weapon across. Carefully shrugging off the straps, he leaned out slightly, free hand clutching a solid-feeling cleft in the rock. One, two, three, he tossed the bag, holding his breath as it soared through the air and skidded across the rock to the front of the cave. Ok, now his weapon. Same drill; Nihil flew and landed near the bag.

Now for him. Edging closer, he tried not to look at the sickening plummet below. He was almost at the edge now, which crumbled slightly. His heart pounding in his ears, he leapt, arms outstretched.

He hit the outcropping hard, the air sucked out of his lungs as he scrambled for a handhold. His fingers slid over the smooth rock until he was able to grab the very edge of the outcropping. Dangling in the air, he was glad he had ditched the body armor earlier. Still, his shoulders screamed and the bandolier around his sherwani felt heavy, the force of gravity tugging at it. With great difficulty he hauled himself up. Breathing heavily, his arms feeling as if they had been yanked out, he scrambled to his equipment. Fishing out a flashlight from his rucksack, he dropped it upon hearing growling emanate from the cave. From the shadows two beady malevolent eyes glared, and as if the beast was made of the shadow it materialized from the mouth of the cave.

Herman lifted Nihil, the teeth whizzing, ready to rip and tear. Slow, heavy attacks, vulnerable from the sides. He dodged backwards as a blow split the rock beneath him and rolled to the right as it swung at him. Once more on the edge; Herman had to seize the offensive. He ran forward, jumping over the low blow it delivered, his feet barely clearing the shaggy black fist. The beast roared and beat its chest.

The chainsword dug into its exposed side, pulling it in closer as it struggled to get free of the bite. With a roar of pain and anger it grabbed the boy by the torso and began to squeeze. Herman felt pain rack his body, and tears came to his eyes as the monster slowly but surely increased its intensity. His vision grew dim, yet in his slowly dimming mind he realized that his arms were still free, and the sword still stuck in its side. With a last bit of strength, he pushed the sword to the left, ignoring the scraping and resistance it encountered while hitting the bone armor. The world grew red and black, but suddenly the monster's death grip was released, and he fell onto the ground, gasping and wheezing. His sides still hurt even though his Aura absorbed most of the damage. He raised his head and noticed the beast, now cut into two slowly dissolve. Wheezing in relief, he crawled into the cave, dragging his bag behind him and fell against the cold rock. He was snoring in a few seconds.

He was back home, lying next to a peach tree in the orchard. Heidi was beside him. Herman was content. He propped himself up on his shoulders, gazing at his little home with a thatched red roof. His father was fixing the tractor engine; his mother by Caleb's side, helping. Herman squeezed his eyes shut and let his ears flatten against his skull, before looking back at Heidi.

The skin had been peeled right off the bone; he was looking at a skeleton clad in a ragged arctic camouflage BDU, lying in rubble and blackened grass. With a start Herman leapt to his feet, and found himself in the ruined town, flames closing in on him.

 **STOMP**

 **STOMP**

He looked up and beheld a metal behemoth blotting out the sky. It raised its foot, and brought it crashing down on him. Herman could only try and reach back as he was flattened against the dirt, feeling the darkness swirl about him as he was suffocated by the metal monster's weight.

 _He saw their faces, melting, flesh bubbling, eyeballs liquefying, bullets mashing up the structure of bone and muscle._

He awoke with a start, his heart racing. Then the realization sunk in, and he began to feel echoes of pain from the fight. Noting that it was light outside, he realized the rumbling of his stomach. Rummaging through the bag, he got up, feeling incredibly exhausted despite his rest. With a foggy mind, he proceeded.

It was true. Anyone who ever trusted him died; he was nothing more than a miserable failure, a disgrace. He let himself be used. Herman shook his head, trying to clear his mind, but the thoughts persisted. The URA! bar tasted like wet cardboard, but it served its purpose of filling him.

Walking out of the cave he noted the fog. Far of in the distance, he could note some sort of house.

" _Who would live so far off in the woods, with all the Grimm around? Maybe it is deserted, and I could check it for supplies."_

Herman grabbed the bag and Nihil and walked to the right of the outcropping. No direct way down, but if he could just climb the lower section of the cliff face, he could find a new approach. He hauled himself up and found himself upon a switchback path carved into the side. Continuing his descent, he approached another vantage position from which he could view the house-or rather a manor to precise. Through a dense, color stripped forest of skeletal trees an old cracked and potholed tarmac road led to the manor entrance. It seemed rather run down and desolate in appearance. The boundary wall was broken down in some areas and thoroughly coated in green moss, and some of the outer buildings seemed to be in danger of falling. Around the tallest spire of the manor birds circled.

But the most surprising feature were the cages. Large, twelve by eight feet rusting iron contraptions lay around the grounds. Most of them had shattered, jagged holes in their sides as if something had violently burst out. Herman could see some sort of hook attached to the top. Oddly enough, he could now see some sort of cable wire attached to the manor's roof. The wire ran between the buildings, extending from down there to... how had he not noticed it? It must've been the fog, Herman thought as he noted with interest that 7 feet to his right the cable extended up to some sort of thicket. The branches of the trees in the thicket bulged outwards, as if something within was concealed. Herman stepped forward.

SWISH

He fell face first onto the ground, the world exploding into a painful darkness. Cursing, he got up, black and yellow spots dancing in his eyes. Looking down, he saw that he had tripped on some thick cable concealed in the moss.

A loud CLANG alerted him as he looked to his left, his brain barely registering the huge black cage burst from the thicket and descend upon him. The cage floor collided with his legs and he fell forward, clutching the bars for dear life as the well-oiled hinges snapped the cage door shut. He was now in this rickety prison which was zipping down the cable towards the manor at breakneck speed. The wind stung his eyes, blinding him. Now the only thing he could do was wait.

After what seemed a lifetime, the cage slowed down and Herman cautiously opened his eyes to see the cage approach a sort of gap in the lower floor of the main manor. He didn't have much time to reflect as the cage jerked to a halt and the door swung open. Pitched forward, he fell into the darkness and landed unceremoniously on his face.

With a groan he got up, dusting his clothes. His eyes adjusted to the dark environment, and he saw that he was in a dark wide room. The gap was high up on the wall behind, with no available approach up. There seemed to be no furniture, with only a few dirty broken boxes and thick mildew coating the walls, which seemed to have small gaps in them. The place smelled awful, like varnish and rotting tomatoes mixed together. Taking a step forward, he recoiled as something crunched beneath his foot. Looking at the bundle of tattered, filthy red rags, he realized with a sick feeling in his stomach that he had trod on a skeleton. How long had it been there?

Suddenly a speaker concealed somewhere in the room rang out, the audio quality scratchy.

"Another student! Wonderful! May I, Headmaster Gerhard 'Hus' Rothad welcome you to the Wildlands Academy of Atlas!"


	11. Wildlands Academy

Chapter 10: Wildlands Academy

 _To my mother and father, who I held so dear, I will defeat the Grimm; I will avenge._

The huntress had such pretty, mesmerizing eyes. He could stare at them forever. Drool slowly leaked from his bottom lip. She was such a good student too, she did so well against his little captures. But in the end, there were too many, but he was able to haul her body out before they ruined it. He was thankful for that; he hadn't had company in a long time. From the heavy bolted oak door to his right he could still hear scratching and yelling. That didn't count as company. That vermin had wandered into his house, uninvited with a few fickle soldiers. He hated uninvited guests, with their lack of manners. Still, he'd teach that soldier a long, preferably painful lesson. Turning his attention to the little huntress, he felt the drool run down his chin as he imagined himself on top of her. Yes. Yes.

There was a sudden rattling, and he looked out from the window to see a boy get pitched out from the cage. Turning his attention to the large scroll station on his table, he switched on camera feed and activated speakers and audio.

But not before placing those pretty red eyes in his refrigerator.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Herman wasn't sure he heard it right, what with the awful audio quality.

"Wildlands Academy? This some sort of combat school?" he tentatively asked.

"Indeed m'boy, but do speak up, the microphone here is rather battered." the hidden speaker squeaked.

Herman sighed. What had he gotten himself into now? And the bones he stepped on. An unfortunate student? He didn't know much about combat schools, but he was sure it was bad policy to keep corpses lying about. In the gloom he could see more ragged bundles...was that an arm? The limbs beneath the rubble flashed into Herman's mind and he clutched his head, the pain and misery still fresh and gnawing inside him.

"Ah well, let us not tarry with your initiation." said the voice, making Herman snap out of his mental torture.

"Initiation?" he asked, hoarse.

"My, my, you really must have your throat checked, young Faunus. At any rate, where was I? Ah yes, the initiation. You must clear your way through my basement, divided into four large arenas including the one you are in right now, then ascend to the ground floor, where you shall meet a 'special challenge'. Succeed, and we'll have a nice chat over tea and crumpets. Fail, well you may have seen some of the failures." the voice concluded with what was meant to be a laugh but instead over the speakers came out sounding like a Nevermore's cry before it attacked innocents.

Herman's thoughts were interrupted by a sudden growling as one, two, three red eyes glowed in the darkness. His night vision having kicked in, he could see the Beowolves crawl from wide gaps and crevices in the room. One tossed away a bone, which landed to his right, and Herman could see that the white enamel was worn away.

Bringing his chainsword up, teeth tracks ready, he slowly circled left, towards the closest Beowolf. Keeping his ears tuned to the other two's movements he nimbly ducked and rolled to the right as the closest predator swung at him. The other two saw it as their chance, rapidly closing in as Herman stepped behind the one that just attacked. With a rapid thrust it howled and fell still as the onyx chainsword ripped through its stomach and moved upwards, the teeth tearing through flesh.

Two loud steps alerted Herman to the fact that one of the two had gotten closer. He ducked as a claw whizzed over his head and swung the chainsword upwards to his right, cutting through the offending Beowulf's outstretched arm. It howled in pain, but not for long as the next blow sent its head spinning off into the darkness.

The third slowed down, seeing what had happened to its brethren. The wolf and the beowolf circled around one another, weighing each other up. It roared angrily, and Herman rushed forward, bringing the chainsword down in an overhead arc, but the monster swiftly dodged and swung low to his left, the claw catching him. Herman fell, the wind knocked out of his lungs and the Beowulf leapt on top of him causing Nihil to fall from his hands and land to his right, the tracks still whirring dangerously close to his face. Now he was on the ground face to face the monster, which was on top, one foot planted on his knee, the other on his stomach with the sheer weight pinning him down. The beast roared victoriously, bringing its right claw up, ready to kill. But as it roared Herman's right hand scrabbled in the darkness and closed around thick piece of wood, which he deep into the gaping black maw of the beast. It gagged on the indigestible material, using its arms to pull out the foreign object. Shifting ever so slightly, Herman was released, and he grabbed Nihil's hilt and swung it across the Beowulf's head which landed with a thud on his chest before dissolving.

He lay there for a moment before rising and advanced through the jagged and splinter doorframe. Immediately there was some grunting and snuffling as five boarbatusks advanced. The lead one let out a hideous shriek and the others followed suit before balling up and spinning with terrific speed at Herman. He vaulted over the middle ball, promptly spinning around and smashing Nihil down into the creatures exposed stomach as it unrolled. One down, he turned his attention to the one on the right which swung its head at him intending to gore him with its tusks. Herman was too quick as he stepped back and kicked it in the snout causing it to back up into the boar behind it. There was a snort from behind and the boy swiftly spun around, catching the third's thrust with Nihil. Stuck between the two tusks, Nihil whined as it began to chip and dent the bone. Yet he couldn't stay in this position for long, its friends were coming. He exerted more force downwards, snapping the tusks and freeing the chainsword. The boy jumped over the one with the broken tusks and heard a thump accompanied by squealing as one of the boarbatusks slammed into it, the tusks digging into its friend. Herman landed face to face with another boarbatusk and rapidly thrust Nihil forward. Though the weapon was too large to pass through its eye the teeth tracks tore into it sending the beast staggering backwards. Switching Nihil to its LMG form he fired off a few incendiary rounds at the Grimm's damaged eye, causing it to run around squealing in pain before collapsing.

Swinging around he noted the boarbatusk had finally gotten it's fangs out of the de-tusked one's side, at the expense of killing it. The fifth boarbatusk was nowhere to be seen. Running forward Herman grabbed the broken tusk from the floor and upon gaining on it, slammed it into the Grimm's right eye, pushing it in deeply. It squealed and went silent. Observing the area around him, he couldn't seem to tell where the last one had run off. Then he saw it desperately trying to squeeze through a little gap in the wall. Deciding to leave it be, Herman headed through a large gap in the wall, which was probably the entrance to the third arena, switching Nihil back to its chainsword configuration.

"Thank you for leaving one alive, it is so difficult to build new cages, much less trap them." came that awful scratchy voice. Ignoring it, Herman surveyed the next arena. While the last two were large rooms with plenty of area for manouvre, this was a long narrow corridor, with a surprisingly intact wooden door at the end. But the smell of decay was the worst. The stench of rotting flesh was thick in the air and flies buzzed about in droves. Trying not to gag on the stench, Herman cautiously advanced.

Suddenly there was a swoosh of air, and Herman found himself facing a creep. Time slowed as he heard another thump behind him. He shoved himself forward, bringing his weight down on the first creep, as Nihil bumped against the stone walls and knocked bits of masonry about. The beast beneath him scrabbled and slashed at his chest, but Herman was unfazed. He bashed an elbow into its face, just as its partner leapt on his back. With his free hand he seized it about the neck and threw it the length of the hallway before stomping on the skull of the beast beneath him. The second one came sprinting and leapt only to get impaled mid-air by a sharp thrust. It screeched in pain as Herman quickly brought up his sword, tearing it to pieces. 

Although he rather wished he kept his blade in that position, for watching it squirm and squeal made it feel so right, as tingles of electricity danced up his thighs.

"Bravo, Bravo! But I must warn you, the next enemy you face may be of a... different sort." Herman wasn't sure what to make of this. Evidently whoever was speaking was out of his mind, running a death camp of a combat school.

It didn't matter. He was batshit crazy, and Herman was rather pissed. With murder on his mind he strode forward.

He'd have answers soon. Moving through the hallway, he entered the final room. It was small, yet Herman could see rickety stairs leading upwards. Running up he tried to open the weak looking wooden door, but it seemed to have been locked or bolted on the other side because he couldn't get through. Walking dejectedly back down he was snapped back into an alert state. There was a hissing sound emanating from the pitch-dark corners and Herman with his keen night vision could see something crawling out of the rusted ventilation ducts.

The air grew thin and the boy choked, caught unaware by the gas attack. His Aura flared; trying to protect against the gas. He tried reaching into the rucksack for some cloth or rag, anything to help. His eyes stung and an inferno built up in his throat and face. Choking, he fell to his knees when suddenly the stinging in his eyes left and the room began to warp and distort. First the keg in the corner grew bigger, then smaller, then the walls twitched, and the roof bore down upon his head.

Then it was all gone. The stinging, the pain, the distortions, everything. Instead Herman seemed to have been transported to another place entirely, one that was an endless whit expanse that stretched on endlessly. But that did not concern Herman.

In front of him stood Dad. Caleb Grauer sized up his son, a disapproving glint in his gray eyes. Herman, suddenly feeling weak in the knees fell to the ground.

Then Caleb spoke in the harsh nails-on-bricks voice of the PMC.

"I'm disappointed in you."

"D-dad?" Herman asked, scared and unsure.

"Don't call me that-I'm not your Dad. It shames me to call you 'son'." Caleb sneered.

This was very, very wrong. Dad would never speak to me like that, Herman thought.

"You let your mother die and used my weapon, my legacy to end thousands, if not hundreds of lives. You are a stain upon the family honor." suddenly his body twisted and shifted, Caleb's features receding and the PMC's features becoming prominent. Herman fell back in horror and noticed a slight squish beneath him. He looked down.

He sat upon a throne of corpses. Limbs twitched from beneath torn corpses that moved about and groaned in agony. The cries of children were ringing in Herman's ears as he tried to get away from the horror, but wherever he looked he saw the dead stretch on endlessly.

"Smell the ashes, boy." the PMC gloated. Herman shut his eyes and buried his face in his hands.

"There will be no salvation for you." this time the voices came from all around him.

"No salvation." they repeated.

"No redemption." the voices swelled in intensity.

"No hope." each time they spoke it was like a barrage of artillery shells dropping upon him. Something grabbed his leg. He looked and saw the woman he had sawed apart grabbing him

There was a light above him, and Herman looked in desperate hope. A door, with the light shining through. Kicking off one corpse then the other, he began to push off the dead that clung to him, trying to weigh him down. He was getting closer, but the dead grew firmer in their resolve to keep him down. He first fell to his knees, then began to crawl as their numbers grew larger and larger, his strength failing. But he was nearly there. With a final push, he was through the light and their death-grip released him.

Herman woke up in some sort of main room or hall. Groggy, he forced himself up. Now he was fucking angry at the old bastard for making him see all that shit.

"Bravo! Young man, you have made it farther than any other student so far. The gas usually kills those with a weak Aura! Let's see if you can make it past this!" an old, tall man clad in a reddish-green suit and tie stood upon a balcony at the far end of the room There seemed to be no stairs leading up, only a door on the same level. Below the balcony though was a large gate, where a huge Ursa snorted and snarled, trying to break the barrier but each time its paw touched it the beast receded.

"This was my prize capture! Cost me many cages this one so for your final challenge you must get up here...without killing it." Bloody hell, this man was really off his crocker. The old man pulled a lever next to him and the beast charged forward at alarming speed, causing Herman to dive out of the way. Quickly surveying the balcony, he noted that it was roughly five feet above the head of the Ursa when it stood up. It swung at him, causing him to dive backwards. There seemed to be nothing he could use in a hurry. No rope, no chairs, nothing. Running towards one of two cracked windows on the right he tried to prise off the irom bar, but to no avail. He ducked and rolled as the Ursa swung, denting the iron. Dammnit, how could he get up?

Then a though occurred to him. He still had two fifty round wind magazines. Could he knock himself away if close enough? But he needed a boost. Surveying his position, he noted that he was on the far right of the room, almost beneath the balcony. The ursa charge again and Herman took off running in a parallel line, the beast charging and gaining on him from him behind. He was right up against the left wall, in front of the second barred window. Leaping upon his edge he quickly turned around and jumped backwards, landing squarely ontop of the Ursa. With no time to waste, he jumped up and let loose with the wind rounds, directly beneath his feet. The sudden close gush of wind knocked the bear downwards and the wolf upwards.

Almost too upwards, as his head collided against the top wall and sudden flurry of pain erupted. He fell back down, landing on the balcony railing. Teetering to the right, to the hungry Ursa, Herman's heart stopped, but he quickly grabbed the rail with his free hand (the other clutching Nihil) and pulled himself to the left.

The door swung open.

"Congratulations! You have proved yourself to be worthy of my academy! The very first student. Oh, I am so excited." the old man croaked on. Painfully, he followed the old man into his study.

While the house was in disrepair, the study was lushly carpeted. Two wall length paintings as well depicting two massive battles, one humanity against Grimm, the other Faunus versus Humans. The ceiling seemed to have engravings etched on and a from a golden chain a chandelier hung. The man seated himself at a massive Oakwood desk, where upon a silver tray was tea and crumpets next to a black satchel. On a desk to his right was a full camera and speaker set up, along with a small minifridge. There were also two more doors, one heavy and bolted, the other seemingly leading outside, Herman assumed as it was next to a window that overlooked a dirt road.

"Do sit down, m'boy." said the old man, and Herman did as he was told.

There was silence as he prepared tea for the two. Herman shifted in his seat.

"As you can tell, I am Gerhard Rothad, called 'Rus' by my friends. And I do hope we will be friends." Gerhard leered, making Herman uneasy.

"I'm Grauer. Herman Grauer." he said, nervous. He felt the sting of anger throb in his head. Or perhaps it was the gas induced headache.

"Allow me to tell you about this institution. I was once a combat instructor at Atlas, but as I grew aged, I could not keep up with my vigorous young charges. So, I retired, yet the inner fire to impart knowledge still burnt within me. Therefore, it became my life's work, to create a school where inductees would face a trial by fire, to weed out the weak from the strong." excitement glimmered in the old man's purple eyes as his pink bald scalp grew flushed.

"You trap people, throw them in cages, use poison gas, and fuck with heads?" Herman vaulted over the desk. Gerhard recoiled as Herman's gauntleted fist caught him in the mouth, Herman's other fist grabbing the old man by the collar and throwing him over the desk. Quickly Herman ducked and noticed a partially opened gas canister. Covering his nose with his sleeve Herman tossed the can at Gerhard's face, giving him, a whiff of his own medicine causing him to choke and clutch at his eyes. The target incapacitated; Herman swung open the minifridge.

He wished that he hadn't.

The old madman coughed, prompting Herman to stride over to him and deliver another blow.

The blow knocked Gerhard aside causing him to spit out bloody teeth. He raised his hands in a feeble attempt to appeal for mercy. But Herman had none; seizing the old man by the scruff of his suit, he dragged him to the balcony. The Ursa below paced about, anxious for a meal.

"Fuckin' dingbat." he snarled before throwing Gerhard over the edge. The Grimm uttered a roar of delight before pouncing upon its former master and dragging him, still screaming into its lair. Herman felt his facial muscles twitch as he tried peering into the darkness but could only content himself with the sounds of flesh being torn and bones being cracked. These dark thoughts of pleasure gave him pause, and he snapped out of his trance.

"You're both the same, Grimm in human form." The damn PMC was back in his mind. Herman chose to ignore him before heading back to the study.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Richard Klausmeyer woke from his stupor. Where was he? The stench of rotting flesh and the realization hit him. Of course, he was in that old man's hellhole. The entire team sent to survey the site was caught off guard. Lightly armed, they could not resist the Grimm. Richard could still remember what he did. Shame pricked the surveyor's heart.

"Richard! Open the door!" bellowed the sergeant. Richard had never bothered to learn his name. Guns roared as the Grimm growled.

"Running lo-" shouted another before he was promptly cut off. There was a tearing sound, accompanied by the fizzling and melting of electric circuits.

"ERROR-MALFUNCTION IN LOWER SERVO-" the Atlesian 130 beeped.

"Richard, you bastard!" were the last words of the sergeant, then he fell silent too. Only growling remained. Richard leaned against the door, trying to catch his breath. Yet with every passing second he found it hard to breathe, and his eyes began to sting. Fumbling inside his kit for the transponder, he fell unconscious before he could send his coordinates.

That is how he ended up in this flesh pit. Gerhard called it his true study, befitting a surgeon or something of the sort of his rank. Flesh of unknown creatures hung from hooks, flayed skins adorned the walls, and he swore he saw an eyeball peer at him from the corner. Leaning against the heavy iron door, he heard footsteps approach, dread filling his heart.

He's coming to kill me, Richard panicked. The door swung open and he fell upon the lushly carpeted floor of the study. Above him stood a Faunus and a young boy at that. He had a mighty weapon in a sheath attached to a large rucksack on his back, but that didn't concern the terrified surveyor.

Blue eyes, shaggy silver-grey hair, a tall well-built stature. His heart raced. So far as he knew, this boy was working hand in hand with Gerhard.

"C'mon, get up." he said in a voice as hard as steel, helping the surveyor up, only confusing him further. Setting him down upon the chair, he proceeded to check the surveyor for injuries. Khattak was astounded.

"What's so funny?" the boy asked, having completed his checkup.

"Nothing, nothing." said the surveyor. He knew what he had to do.

Herman applied all the medical knowledge Warren had taught him. Nothing too serious, just a few bruises. By the white outfit along with the ATLESIAN ENGINEERING CO. monogram on his overalls, this man was evidently with the government. Atlesian Engineering was a government owned company which handled large military contracts.

"Could you fetch my kit please? It has a few things I require." the man requested. Herman obliged, grabbing the satchel from the table. The man eagerly grabbed him while Herman checked for supplies. He didn't dare open the minifridge, but there were a few cans along with an opener in the cupboard. The labels had fallen off, so it seemed that he would have to play a guessing game with them.

Meanwhile Richard rapidly zipped through the satchel. Joy of joy, the old man had put the transponder back. Flicking the switch, it began to beep noisily. Herman's wolf ears twitched, and he rapidly swung around. The man's both hands were in the bag which was now issuing some strange noises. Herman was upon him in an instant where he found the device.

"I should've left you in there." he snarled, throwing the satchel at the man, his light skin even paler.

With that, he darted out of the exit door, back into the wild, leaving the surveyor bewildered.

" _You're a bloody terrorist, what the hell?"_


	12. Khel

Chapter 11: Khel

"Did he match this description?" the corporal asked, the android assistant holding up a holo of the fugitive's sketch.

Khattak nodded. It had been a few hours, but the Atlesian military showed up, or rather one corporal, two robots and eight hunters in training retrieved him and taken him to their bullhead. The hunter trainees were all silent. Their pale, shocked expressions upon entering the manor were still fresh in his mind; the male blond had vomited. Though that was probably from the motion sickness; as the bullhead rose into the sky the boy's cheeks had turned green again.

"So, you have no idea where he is heading next? No name either. Never mind, thank you for your time. We'll drop you off at the next settlement." With that corporal Jack Lauton headed back to the teens. These kids were no damn good, the corporal thought. If he had been provided a few good trackers they would have caught the fugitive by now. No point in complaining though. Sitting down, he directed the pilot to the nearest airbase, situated 21 kilometers from Khel.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Several days after the manor, Herman stood at the edge of a mountain ridge, surveying the ravine below. The only way across seemed to be a heavily guarded bridge, and so far, he could not see any other crossing. The river below could not be forded; it was too fast. It was infuriating to say the least. On top of that his supplies were also running low. He was down to his last MRE and his hormone inhibitors were down to three pills. He needed to stock up on those, for running about with...unrestricted urges would really impede his mission. At least he still had three boxes of incendiary rounds and two anti-grav, but Herman seriously doubted his chances of shooting his way through.

Yet there was a slight glimmer of hope. On his map there was a settlement by the name 'Khel', about 12km east of the bridge. It lay at the river, which meant he could probably find supplies and crossing there. Sticking to the shadows he descended the ridge, this time carefully checking for any traps. As he hit the grass there was a sudden rumbling of the ground. Vehicles. He quickly sprinted across and darted into the undergrowth and sure enough, large trucks and Paladins began to stomp across the road. Crouched still, his breath was stuck in his chest as one of the Paladins halted for a second and so did the whole convoy. The sudden silence was punctuated by brief conversations between the men in the vehicles. Then it rattled on again and Herman could not be more relieved.

Carefully moving through the underbrush, the skies rumbled as they darkened, signaling the search for shelter. Night was when the Grimm came to prowl, but they were the least of Herman's worries. It was when he drifted off to dreamland the real nightmares began. Sometimes he was back on the train, trying to open the doors so he could get out, but all were shut. In futility he would run along the carriages until he found himself cowering in the darkness, unfeeling steel bearing down on him. Sometimes he was back to the night of the op, and he had watched Alpha Pack die in countless times yet that exquisite pleasure was denied to Herman. But the most frequent nightmare was after the bombing. The crying. The pain. The guilt.

Needless to say, Herman dreaded having to sleep, and so he got less and less of it every night. Dark circles had appeared beneath his eyes, and recently when he was awake he began to see and hear things that didn't seem to be there. As Herman peering into the darkness the dead, there was a rustling...and Flash's dead, soulless face protruded from the undergrowth. Recoiling in fear, the boy fell back. Clyde's voice rang out in his ears.

"DO IT!" A child was crying somewhere.

These damn ghosts kept running back to him, as if he ran a bloody orphanage for them.

Herman lay in the dirt, his heart pounding in his ears. An hour passed before he mustered the strength to press on after consulting his map he could see that Khel was only 7km away.

There was a rustling behind him, causing the boy to whip around, hand resting on Nihil. Had he imagined it? It was so hard to distinguish hallucinations from reality nowadays. Silence.

It was broken by the sharp hiss of a silenced automatic weapon. Contrary to popular belief, silencers do not make a weapon completely silent; it only dampens the noise somewhat. Herman was caught off guard and took several bullets to the chest, the Aura dispelling the little ice-like wisps that the bullets exploded into. More firing, this time from his left and right. An ambush.

More firing, but by now Herman was sprinting away, weaving about. Seeking refuge behind a sturdy tree he could hear more rustling, but his assailants remained silent. More soft footsteps, this time to his right. In morbid fascination, Herman saw a green shrub holding a silenced submachine gun pass by the tree. Then he saw it was not a shrub, but a man with broken leaves and brushes draped over a dark green suit. Ghillies.

The man, having not seen him, walked on. Herman quickly unsheathed Nihil and rushed him, driving his foot into the small of the enemies' back. Caught off guard, the ghillie fell and Herman dived onto him, grabbing the scruff of his uniform while with the other hand he brought Nihil around the ghillie's neck. Shocked, the soldier could only raise his hands in surrender as Herman dragged he-or she back to the bas of the tree.

"Who sent you?" Herman hissed from behind clenched teeth. Nihil was meant to be two-handed, and the muscles of his right armed began to ache from the strain.

The ghillie remained silent. With some difficulty, Herman flicked the tread activation switch. Now with the jagged metal whirring uncomfortably close to its neck, Herman felt the soldier shudder.

"I'll do it."

That got her to talk.

"I'm from the White Fang." she said in a low, husky voice.

"How many are there?" she did not respond. Herman brought Nihil closer to her neck.

"Tw-two, including me."

"Where are they now?"

She remained silent, but then there was a sudden coldness next to his head. The other ghillie had pressed its weapon against Herman's head.

"Drop it." This was a male. Herman did as he was told, and raised his arms. The hostage, now freed picked up her weapon and pointed at Herman.

"Take him to the lake 1km north. We can dump him there."

"The weapon?" asked the woman.

"Adam will want it, as proof."

They walked on, and eventually the lake came into view. A small yet deep thing, with a small stream leading into the main river. The surface reflected the alpine forest scenery, yet there was something intimidating about the way it's silvery surface shimmered, as if the murky depths concealed something. Soon they were at the edge. The female ghille stood at his side, inspecting Nihil as the male pressed his assault rifle against Herman's head.

"Put a couple more rounds into him, just to be safe." she idly called out. Herman felt nothing, just a coldness within him as he stared at his reflection, not recognizing what he saw. There was a series of ripples, as if some small fish was moving about within.

Then there was a loud splash and Herman whipped his head around to see the female ghille was not there; only a series of large ripples next to where she stood, Nihil at her feet. Crimson spread through the water.

"Damn-" said the man behind him. He had been caught off guard, and Herman seized the chance. With one hand he grabbed the gun and with the gauntlet he delivered a blow to the man's stomach. Winded, he fell to his knees and looked up in time to welcome Herman's bootheel. Hard leather met rigid cartilage; and there was a crunch as Herman broke the enemies' nose. The assault rifle was free from hs grip and Herman turned it on the ghillie; who raised his hands in surrender. Herman's mind flashed back to the night. Instead of the ghillie was the Atlas soldier, instead of the silenced rifle was Clyde's underslung assault rifle.

The vision snapped back into current day as the ghillie had detected weakness and shoved Herman back into the depths before turning tail and running. The cold water came as a shock and Herman floundered before casting the weapon aside and swimming for the surface. His hand broke the surface of the lake and grasped the mud, yet as he tried to pull himself up there was a certain unyielding force tugging at his leg. Herman looked back.

The beast had mottled, slimy looking black skin. Even the bone armor that dotted its gilled wrinkly head and spine seemed bloated and was colored mossy green to some extent. It's two thin arms with their evil-looking curved black claws were clamped around his leg and Herman could see it's finned scaly black tail beat about excitedly. Rows of knife-sharp fangs lined the inside of its cavernous mouth as it tried to bite his leg off with them.

Oxygen running low, Herman used his free leg to kick its vice like hands, shattering its brittle grip. The beast recoiled and Herman saw his chance. He quickly turned around and pulled himself out but the Grimm was faster than he thought. It rapidly swam after him and Herman shuddered when it's slimy scales brushed against his clothes. But that was the least of his concerns. Nihil was right before him; so tantalizing close. Reaching out; he recoiled in pain as the monster; desperate for a meal sank its fangs into his arm, or it would have if he did not have an Aura. The two wet slimy hands encompassed his neck sending an unpleasant jolt down his spine.

Just a bit more, he thought as his hand brushed Nihil's handle, only to recoil as the beast had finally forced a bit of its teeth past his Aura, sinking into flesh. With a roar of pain, he released his free grip on the bankside and once more they plunged into the dark depths, the death grip tightening around his neck. Herman violently kicked it; but to no avail; it was too strong and his vision had begun to fade as its fangs sunk deeper into his arm. In a last-gasp effort he shoved his gauntleted fingers into its glaring red eyes, the thumb going into the left socket; the index and ring going into its right. There was a soft squish as he grimly pushed on, sinking his fingers deeper. The Grimm at last released its grip around his neck and shoulder; free at last he pushed through the depth and firmly hauled himself over the edge, grabbing Nihil and slowly crawling away from the lake.

It began to rain, but Herman did not care. His arm burnt and he had not the strength to reach into his rucksack for the bandages. Slowly he dragged himself onwards, leaving a crimson trail behind.

How long he dragged himself, he did not know. The world kept blacking out, and he found the environment change from the forest to down the long winding path that led home. But then came the Grimm. Standing between him and home, Herman knew what he had to do. Raising himself, he grasped Nihil while the wound in his arm bled freely. But that did not deter him. Slowly but surely, he got closer to home, cutting his way through the beasts. Finally, he collapsed on the doorstep. Herman smiled. He had made it home.

Khushal Khan was just returning from his daily round on the settlement wall, attracted by the sudden roars when he stumbled upon the bleeding boy, with a trail of evaporating corpses behind him. He sighed. Another visitor had arrived at Khel.


	13. Flint and Powder

Chapter 12: Flint and Powder

Herman groggily opened his eyes. He was in some sort of barely furnished room, lying in a cot. By the light shining through the window, it must've been day. Last night's incident flashed through his mind and he rapidly got out, his hand instinctively reaching for Nihil. It wasn't there.

"Easy there." came an unfamiliar voice.

Standing next to his cot was a small, thin man. He looked fragile, as if a strong wind might snap him in two. His pockmarked face was long and pointed, with tiny wisps of a grey beard upon his scarred cheeks.

"Where am I?" Herman asked. He didn't like how the man was staring at him with his seedy brown eyes.

"A 'thank you' would suffice." he said, still staring.

"Thanks, I guess. But really, where am I?"

"My Faunus friend, you have come to the most desolate corner of Solitas. This place-" the man strode over to a pair of tattered curtains and cast them aside. As Herman's eyes adjusted to the light, he saw row upon row of broken down homes, half-built towers, filthy unpaved streets upon which downtrodden and harassed-looking townsfolk mixed with roving packs of well-armed men and women were scattered about. Herman watched as a few marched into the open-air market. Evidently this was the signal for all present to scatter; Herman saw the townsfolk flee as the gang began to confiscate large bundles from the shopkeepers. Upon a hill in the center a massive, elegant looking glass home lay, its pink and cream paint at odds with the desolate environment. There was very little greenery, the entire place having seemingly been painted grey.

"-is Khel. A city where the ordinary folk slaves, and the ruler eats. A city where brother has been turned against brother, father against son, mother against daughter to survive. A city where all the scum of the earth ends up." he concluded with a sad voice.

"Well, I'm just passing through. I just need to get to the other side of the river." Herman didn't want to get mixed up in more trouble.

"My friend, if you were a nobody I would have sent you on your way. But the fact that you are some sort of huntsman-"

"I'm no huntsman." Herman snapped. He just wanted to get out of this damn place.

"Huntsman or not, your arrival here has not been discreet."

"What do you mean by that?"

"You burst out of the Dark Forest, with a couple of Beowolves on your tail. Yet you managed to slay them all before collapsing at the gates. You are fortunate that I, Khushal Khan stumbled upon you rather than one of the guards in our ruler's employ."

"What were you even doing out there, if you weren't a guard?" Something was wrong, Herman could almost smell it.

"An old man sometimes has a desire to see the night skies, eh?" he laughed nonchalantly, dismissing Herman's question. Doubt lingered in Herman's mind.

Suddenly, as Khan looked over the window, his entire expression changed. His smile turned to a pained grimace and danger flashed in his brown eyes. Pulling the curtains shut he turned to Herman. Outside the steady thudding of marching boots could be heard.

"What?"

"Bloody hell, she is on her way. Stay here." Khan voice was now desperate as he left the room and left downstairs. Not content to lie in bed, Herman slid out from the cot and noticing his bag with its attached sheath on the corner of the room, silently crept after Khan. He paused on the wooden stairs after hearing voices from below.

"Hide down here now." Khan urgently spoke to his companion and the scraping and creaking of wood was heard.

The entrance door was flung open and Herman could hear more footsteps.

"Madam Rožinis ! A p-pleasure to see you here-" Whoever this 'Madam Rožinis' was, she ought to be important, Herman judged by the sudden shakiness in Khan's voice.

"Stow it Khushal. I've heard you brought a guest over, hmmm?" her voice was like Hassan's, sickly sweet, yet dripping with venom.

"T-that is true, b-bu-"

"Where is he?"

"He's here." Herman walked down the stairs. He wasn't going to let Khan get in trouble. Better that he settle whatever business was at hand. Khan, however was flabbergasted.

Madam Rožinis was a tall, curvy sort of woman. Her lush dark brown hair was elegantly coiled around her tanned shoulders and her rather large figure sat well upon her medium-set frame. Her lips were a soft pink, like her extremely low-cut evening dress. Behind her stood a well built, mean looking man with large fists-not a good guy to be interrogated by, Herman thought. Then he noticed the man's large jade colored scaly tail swing about to and fro. The bodyguard grinned menacingly at the boy, revealing his sharp teeth. That wasn't what caught Herman's attention though.

As she brushed her hair out of the way, Herman found himself staring into eight glossy beetle-black eyes, four on the left and four on the right. They seemed to regard him with a predatory hunger. Herman had never been so revolted and... aroused? Damn, he really needed to get his inhibitor pills.

"So, this is the huntsman." she said with satisfaction. "Pray tell, huntsman, why you come to Khel?"

"I need to cross the river." Herman replied, trying not to look at her creepy eyes.

"Then why not take the bridge? The river crossing is dark and hazardous. Unless, of course you are looking to avoid... official scrutiny."

The tension was thick in the air. Herman didn't know what to say. Khan was pale and trembling. Madam Rožinis drew closer to Herman and placed one dainty little hand on his shoulder.

"Why don't you come over to my place tonight? We can discuss matters and reach a suitable agreement." she smiled sweetly at him before quickly turning and leaving. Before she left she looked at Khan, who quailed beneath her glare.

"Next time you find a visitor, bring him to me. You wouldn't want to lose your business, now would you?" Having delivered her threat, she swept out. Khan immediately closed the door.

"We are lucky that we are not dead." he said, still trembling.

"Business?" Herman asked, seeking to take Khan's mind off the woman. Evidently, she was the governor of Khel, given by Khan's fear.

"Look around you, boy. I am a gunsmith." Herman now turned his gaze to the many crafted weapons that lined the walls. How come he had not noticed them before? In glass cases lay revolvers, rifles, assault rifles, a few swords and axes that no doubt morphed into guns, they were beautifully crafted. Intricate mosaics of flowers, birds, Grimm and even what seemed like poems were engraved onto the sides of the weapons.

"To my shame, I supply weapons to that Mistralian wretch." he said, downcast.

"This is some great workmanship." Herman was awed.

"Aye, beauty in the tools of destruction." Khan rose from the table.

"Now that you have her invitation, you must go to the spider's lair. It is almost a pity."

"Why?"

"No man can resist her corruptive touch. I have seen good, noble people fall under her thrall and those who resist are well, disappeared. You noticed that crocodile Faunus? His mere sight causes the sinners to pray fervently and the widows to wail." Herman felt as if something was slowly worming its way about in his stomach.

"But you are fortunate to have come at the right time." Khan smiled, making Herman even more uneasy.

"How so?"

"I plan to change all that."

Khan, still smiling pushed his table aside before rolling up the battered dusty rug beneath to reveal a wooden floor. Khan then gave two sharp knocks on it and a wooden panel seamlessly shifted out of the way. Out climbed a young, dark-skinned man with dark brown eyes. He wore rectangular sunglasses and a dark fedora with a blue trim on his head, as well as an earring on his right ear, along with a dark vest over an untucked white dress shirt, with a loose tie wrapped around the collar. Completing his attire was a pair of dark dress pants, silver dress shoes and a dark glove on his left hand. When he saw Herman, he seemed surprised before looking at Khan for advice.

"Easy, he is here to help." Khan reassured him and the man walked over to Herman and shook his hand. He could see that this boy was just about his age.

"If Khan says you're here to help, then you're here to help. I'm Flynt, Flynt Coal, of the Atlas Academy."

It was as if a heavy weight had landed in Herman's stomach. A huntsman... shit, this was bad news.

"You okay?" Flynt asked, eyebrow raised.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine." Herman said in a high, cheerful voice that was very unlike him. Letting go of Flynt's hand, he took a large step back. Khan looked concerned.

"Right, let's get down to business. Flynt here, along with another teammate has infiltrated the town under the guise of a travelling musician. Tonight, there is going to be an event at her home, where you have also been invited." Khan said.

"So, you're looking to use me, eh?" Herman asked, regaining some of his composure.

"If you would call doing your duty as 'being used' then yes. You're a huntsman, aren't you?" Flynt spoke up.

"Uh...yeah. Yeah, I'm from Vale." Herman said.

"You got a name?"

Herman hesitated, then said the first thing that came to his mind.

"Gerhard Rothad." That just seemed to puzzle Flynt but he let it drop.

"Well Gerhard, we've gotta get into the event and arrest Madam Rožinis. Since we've been invited, getting in will be a breeze. However, I can just walk in with my trumpet, but your chainsword is bound to be confiscated. We can't leave you unarmed. So, what we're gonna do is walk in through the front door and hand in your weapon. It'll put them at ease. What you'll do is sit down, have a nice time. Then, half an hour in you're gonna walk over to the washroom. In the third toilet stall a contact of ours has placed one of Khattak's guns behind the toilet. It was meant for me...but I guess you'll need it more. Walking back, there's gonna be a power disruption. Take out as many goons as you can and leave the Madam to me. Clear?" Flynt said it all in one breath.

"I get the feeling that you've modified this plan to accommodate me." Herman said.

"Well, when Khan dragged you in the last night I had plenty of time to decide whether to send you on your way or make use of you. And I decided on the latter, due to some events out of my control." Flynt said. It was evident he did not want to go into greater detail.

"Won't you need a weapon?" Herman asked. Did this guy plan to arrest Madam Rožinis with his trumpet? The thought almost made him laugh.

"My trumpet is my weapon." Flynt grinned upon seeing Herman's shocked expression.

"Not everybody has to have a weapon fit for edgelords." Flynt continued, laughing. "Now clean yourself up, we got a party to attend."


	14. Party

Chapter 13: Party

For the umpteenth time that day Flynt adjusted his hat and sunglasses in the mirror. Only thirty minutes till the party. His hands trembled slightly and there was a sharp dry taste in his mouth. He thought that he'd get used to it after so many missions, but he never did. One of his teachers at Atlas told him that it was just like the trembling of a racehorse before the starting gate raised.

Flynt wouldn't know. He'd never been a racehorse.

That guy Rothad. He wasn't who he claimed to be, but that didn't matter. Strange, how he showed up at just the right time. Flynt had been obsessing about a critical error in his plan; namely the fact that two of his teammates were out of action.

Flynt couldn't forget the shocked faces when they were informed. The White Fang had remained dormant in Atlas for so long, yet they had managed to strike so close to the capital and mount a major offensive. And the faces of everybody when they desperately tried to find out what happened to their loved ones caught up in the blast... Flynt would never forget that desperation and grief.

K. lost a brother in the fighting and Y. lost her father in the blast. They lost their hope, their will to continue. Flynt felt awful, but he couldn't do anything. He and Neon had to go onto Khel on their own.

Once more Flynt picked up his sunglasses. It had been successfully integrated with his scroll, and it had a couple of other nifty features. Six quick blinks and he'd activate video cam, uploading data direct to the Atlas HQ. Eight quick blinks and he'd activate night vision. Plus, it constantly ran facial recognition scans on everyone, matching them to the most wanted database. Flynt cursed softly when he noticed it required an update, one he'd kept putting off since the bombing. Connecting to Khan's Wi-Fi he placed them back into his pocket.

Herman came down the stairs, having packed his kit. He remembered Khan and Flynt's faces when he asked his compensation simply be water and a few rations. In advance. Sometimes he wondered why he was helping Flynt. Was it a chance to be on the right side for once? Or redemption? Herman shook his head and walked to Flynt.

"It's time."

As they stepped out Herman wrinkled his nose in disgust. Sewage ran freely down the sides of the streets where it pooled in the slums clustered at the bottom of the hill. Ragged, barely clothed children played amongst the muck while a few mangy flea-ridden strays fought over some scraps in the many garbage piles clustered about.

"I thought you Atlas people were famed for good city planning and management." Herman remarked.

"Operative word being Atlas." Flynt replied as they walked on.

"How'd she even get here?"

"I dunno. Some say she was born here, but we've certified her to be from a Mistralian crime syndicate. Obviously, they're trying to extend their roots offshore. We can be sure of the fact is that with their backing, she's manage to corrupt the officials. Money meant for roads, hospitals, schools, whatever is siphoned off while the clerks send back reports of it being finished. For a good time, we didn't even know what was going on here. Only after the White Fang offensive (at this Herman flinched slightly) I was sent here to certify conditions here, based on a distress report from Khan."

"Can you trust him?"

"His dad was in charge of the settlement before Madam Rozinis showed up. Let's just leave it at that." Flynt said as they stopped before a massive gate manned by a single bored-looking guardsman. A golden plaque on the gate read FINANCIAL DISTRICT. Through the chain-link fence Herman could see that the streets were paved and the quality of housing much better.

"What business have you got here?" asked the guard.

"We both have invitations to Madam Rozinis's event." Flynt replied calmly.

The guard dialed a number on his scroll and jabbered something in Mistralian. The reply was in the affirmative and he nodded at the two before opening the gate.

"Hang on." They both froze.

"Wolf-ears. Hand over the hardware." the guard's firm tone meant he wouldn't take no for an answer. Flynt nodded at Herman.

But as Herman turned around, he just felt that he couldn't give Nihil over to the guard. He didn't know why, but his arms just seemed to have gone limp while a powerful force rooted him to where he stood. A voice in his head seemed to scream NO when Herman stared into the guard's mean, greedy little eyes. It was almost like a petulant child pleading. His eyes burnt, and he couldn't see straight and the world twisted and shook as the colors slowly drained and were replaced by blue and grey hues. Herman felt as if he was pushing against a huge force.

"Ok, go ahead." Herman blinked. The guard went back to his post, and Nihil was still on his back. Turning around, he looked at a confused Flynt.

"What did you do? For a moment you stared him down, then I swear that that guy's eyes turned grey for a second. The next thing I know, he's letting you keep the weapon."

"I honestly don't know." Herman sighed. Flynt looked like he wanted to say something, but he elected to move on up towards the glass house.

What had happened? Herman wondered. The strange sensations were gone, yet there was a tingling in the back of his skull. Soon though, the had reached Madam Rozinis's house. There was laughter and chatter coming from inside. They stepped in and found them to be surrounded by very well dressed and well-groomed men and women, other guests of Madam Rozinis's. Herman looked down on his battered blue sherwani, which had taken on a light grey hue due to all his days out in the wild. In futility he tried to rub some dirt off the front.

The pair made their way to the main hall, a large well-furnished room. Golden curtains made a stark contrast with the marble walls and violet carpets. A winding staircase in the far-right corner led up to a balcony of sorts along which more of the armed guards patrolled. Herman noticed that they had grenades attached to their belts. Probably for intimidation, he thought. On one side of the room there was an elaborate banquet, with silver dishes heaped with all sorts of delicacies. Charred red slabs of meat, golden brown crusts, fruit baskets bursting with a variety of color...Herman's mouth began to water.

"There you are!" Madam Rozinis had spotted him. Her eight eyes narrowed in displeasure when she saw his weapon, but she said nothing. She looked nice, with her hair elegantly styled and tossed in a bun. She wore a rather regal-looking dress, a floral gold and dark pink pattern. As she drew close, Herman could smell the sharp tang of perfume.

Taking his hand, she led him to the central seating area, where one other man sat. His head was large, his jaw ponderous. Lilac eyes were sunken in his pasty skin, as if he had not been out in the sun much. His bow-like lips, like worms after the rain were contorted in displeasure as his large hairy hands nervously fiddled with his white tuxedo's tie. Behind him stood his bodyguard, a short yet muscular man. When Herman sat, the other man took no notice of him. Only when Madam Rozinis sat did he speak.

"This another of your 'pets'?" he groused, pointing at Herman.

"I'm just passing through." Herman replied, who felt slightly stung. The man took no notice as he glared at Madam Rozinis.

"I sense something is on your mind, Walter." she said, maintaining her cool, slightly aloof composure.

Walter was now twiddling with the signet ring on his index finger, the pale-yellow metal gleaming.

"Can I speak freely?" Madam Rozinis nodded.

"I'm going to have to break off our little deal. The higher authorities are conducting investigations into every inch of our lives."

"So?"

"So? I can't afford to supply you with any more Dust. Also, I must object to your dealings with the White Fang. Those lousy bastards have tried to off me three-times last week. So how am I supposed to feel, putting my neck on the line to get you all the Dust you need to keep this place running while your associates, using your weapons try to kill me?" Walter's face had become scarlet and he was breathing very heavily, intensely fiddling with his ring. Meanwhile, Herman was listening intently as he busied himself with a few pastries. If Madam Rozinis was involved with the White Fang, maybe he could gain some information.

"I thought your compensation was adequate."

"It's no good if I can't keep my position on the Schnee board." Herman perked up. A Schnee company board member. Unconsciously he tightened his hand, crushing a pastry. A steady pounding built up in his head and the tingling in the back of his head amped up to a full current.

 _The Schnee must pay._

He took a sip of water from a metal goblet, trying to clear his head. But the image of his burning house had lodged itself into his brain.

The Schnee must pay.

Dad. Mom. Dead because of them.

Madam Rozinis was looking at him strangely. So was the board member. Herman took a deep breath and reached out for another pastry. His gauntleted hand was shaking.

"It's fine." he lied, giving Madam Rozinis a small smile.

"So yeah, I'm going to have to abandon our arrangement. Don't try to talk me out of this. I've made up my mind; it's over."

Madam Rozinis dropped her forced smile. Her brow creased and her eight eyes narrowed even further. Walter shrank back in his seat, raising his hands.

"It seems you've outlived your usefulness." she said, causing icicles to form in Walter's spine.

"Li-listen, I'm just telling you the truth." Then he laughed nervously. "I've-I've got friends in the Atlas military. My guards are here. One call, and it's all over for you." he grinned, revealing a solid wall of pale yellow.

"You believe your sad excuses of guards will help you?" Madam Rozinis took a scrollout of her handbag, and placed it on the table. Herman noticed Walter's face turn from a vivid scarlet to white.

 _The Schnee must pay_.

Gripping the table, it was all he could do to prevent himself from attacking the man.

Walter Ziknia couldn't believe his eyes as he flicked left on the scroll's screen.

His guards were dead. It couldn't be. He had paid top Lien for them; how could they be taken out so easily? But the gruesome reality was evident in the photos. And that sick bitch Rozinis, she was smiling now. His heart rose up to his throat.

"Walter Ziknia, I'd like you to meet a friend of mine, Commissar Petrenko Zeelyohniy." The crowd parted to reveal a Faunus, his dark green scales gleaming in the light. Herman was snapped out of his mental struggle upon seeing his attire.

The jet-black trench coat and Ushanka hat, complete with the Beowulf armband. His snake-like eyes darted towards Herman, and as their eyes locked Herman felt another chill go down his spine, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Still, the Commissar said nothing as he stepped up behind Walter, who was gibbering in shock.

"Wh-White F-Fang...Rozinis, you're a crazy bi-" was his last words before his bodyguard clapped a cloth around his mouth and nose while a second clamped his hands down on the man's shoulders, preventing him from struggling. Walter's movements grew sluggish, until he went limp. The former employee of Walter Ziknia nodded at Rozinis.

"It'll be wired to your account." She said, putting on a winning smile.

"He's all yours, Commissar." She said as the limp frame of Walter was bundled out of the room. The snake merely smiled before following the two guards. When Petrenko exited, he softly cursed. Pulling his scroll out, he dialed the number of his head of security.

"The traitor is here. Mobilize the Covert Division and snuff him out." he said before striding after the two guards who were bundling the board member into the back of his van.

Madam Rozinis turned her attention back to the still-trembling Herman.

"What is it?" the sweetness was back in her voice.

"The Schnee Company..." he croaked. Madam Rozinis understood. Here was yet another wronged one. And she could use that in her favor.

"We can talk all about it tonight. For now, relax and enjoy." she patted Herman on the shoulder, but he felt sick inside.

During all this time, Flynt had taken the stage. The crowd whooped and cheered as he launched into "I confess".

But that wasn't what concerned him. Now that he had an ample vantage point, he blinked six times, activating camera feed. The facial recognition began its biometric scan on all who were present. Policemen, bureaucrats, company managers who had been granted illegal leases, the entire place was a pit of scum and villainy. The scan swept over the middle seating area, where Rothad and Rozinis sat, along with a Schnee company board member. He also saw a snake Faunus slinking about in the shadows, the scan recognizing him as a White Fang Commissar Petrenko Zeelyohniy.

When the scan swept over Rothad, his face was magnified and the database began to scan through a series of sketches on the lower right-hand side of his sunglasses. Flynt was puzzled, but he kept playing. The database stopped at a rough sketch that roughly resembled him before transposing itself on his face. Then it ran a secondary scan and it plucked out a Vale citizen's registration photograph of a younger looking Rothad, which transposed itself onto the main image. Why was it giving him so much importance?

100% VERIFICATION

DATABASE UPDATING-HERMAN GRAUER

WANTED FOR TERRORIST ACTIVITIES

Flynt cursed internally. All along he had naively assumed Rothad-or Herman to be some huntsman from Vale. He should've been smart, should've updated sooner. For all he knew Herman was working with Madam Rozinis. It was time for the signal.

Several kilometers away, Khan crept through the narrow winding alleyways. Poor planning had allowed the residential apartments-if they could be called that to spread to the very edges of the Financial District. Here there were plenty of nooks and crannies to hide and pop out of when the patrols passed. Passing a burnt-out shop, he cautiously approached the chain link fence. After carefully checking for any guards he nonchalantly leaned against a wall and whistled, extracting a pair of bolt cutters from his waistcoat as he did so.

From the alleyway opposite a a young girl with a light complexion emerged. She had green eyes and moderate red-orange hair done up in four ponytails with light blue streaks in her bangs. Her pink tail flicked about eagerly.

She wore a light blue cropped tank top on top of a dark purple bra, dark purple short shorts under a pink combat mini-skirt and white belt with a yellow winking smiley face on the buckle. Two buttons were fixed to her tank top above her right breast, one purple with a cat design and another green one with a heart.

She also had a white cat bell collar around her neck, a pair of bracers on her arms and pads on her shins and knees. She skated over to him on red roller blades. A tattoo of a shooting star with a red, green and yellow trail wound around her right arm, the range of colors sharply contrasting with the dark environment.

"Hello there, Kat. I hope you've not been too cooped up there." Khan warmly greeted her.

"Ugh, where do I even begin? It stank, it was small and cramped-" she launched into a litany of complaints. Khan held up his hand.

"We've got a party to crash. Follow me and stay low." Neon grinned. Flynt had finally sent the signal; now it was show time. She giggled slightly. Meanwhile, Khattak began to cut a small hole in the fence with his bolt cutters. It should've been electrified, but the meagre power supply had been diverted for the pleasures of those in their palaces upon the hill while the rest scrabbled about in the muck and darkness. There were no worries about the guards, for all of them were on security detail for the party, getting drunk somewhere.

There was a clink as the last metal strand was snipped and the small part of fence fell. Khan squirmed through, and was eagerly followed by Neon. They stuck to the shadows, slinking along the cobbled streets until they reached the south of the Financial District, where the power grid lay. Khan could easily cut through the metal padlock around the chain-link door and sabotage the power from within, but there was a problem.

Three guards stood before the grid. Khan noted with displeasure that they had his weapons.

"Neon, this is your time to shine." he whispered. The girl leapt out of the darkness eagerly, giggling madly, skating about until she was in front of the guards.

"Hey, who the bloody 'ell are you?" said one.

Neon only giggled before slapping him and quickly turning tail, skating up to the main house. The guard, now incensed rushed after her, followed by his two friends. The opening clear, Khan quickly ran over to the chain link door and broke open the lock. There was no time to waste.

He made his way to the central power box, and wrenched the lever upwards.

Herman felt dizzy as he watched Flynt perform. He wondered if the Commissar recognized him. Still, there was a burning rage in his veins. The White Fang and the Schnee Company, all in one. It was a difficult mouthful to swallow.

Then the lights went out, plunging everyone present into confusion and shock as their eyes adjusted to the darkness. Herman's eyes quickly attuned themselves, his mind penetrated by one thought.

Take out the guards.

Whipping out Nihil, he activated the tracks. Needless to say, this only whipped the guests into more panic. The guards themselves hesitated, then a few were bowled over by a sudden trumpet blast. Time to take the initiative.

Herman charged one guard, unable to move as the sawing voice got closer and closer. He swung, the blade easily cleaving through body armor and flesh. Needless to say, his death cries along with the sound of ripping flesh only caused the guests to scream in panic as they tried to escape.

One guard, two guards, three, four, five. They kept coming, he kept killing. Warm sticky blood splashed all over his front as he drove Nihil into a guardswomen's neck, the sharp blade making a cruel, twisted mockery of the human form. Dropping to his knee and spinning around, he got some more of the substance all across his hair and face as Nihil cleaved into another enemies' stomach. The air rang with the sounds of trumpet blasts and the panicked screams of those who remained. Herman's cheeks ached, and he realized that he was smiling. A strange sensation swept through his body.

"You feel that? Feels good doesn't it? Give in to it. Embrace it." the PMC once more rasped into his ear.

A large force hammered him in the side, sending him flying into the banquet table. Herman quickly got back up and saw that the crocodile bodyguard was there, a large hammer in hand, obviously crafted by Khan. The man charged, but Herman swiftly dodged his blow and kicked him in the side.

It was like hitting a wall of beef, which is to say, it had no effect on the bodyguard. Herman caught another hammer blow underneath his chin, once more sending him flying backwards.

Sprawling on the floor, he received a sharp kick to his ribs, making him fall onto his back. This time, he coughed up some of his own blood. The bodyguard stood above him, grinning unpleasantly. He raised his hammer, before smashing away at Herman's face. The Faunas' vision went blurry, and his entire face felt...indescribable. He didn't know where Nihil was, but he did know that if he didn't do anything then he'd be dead. On the sixth hammer swing, he grabbed upwards, and shoved the hammer back along with the massive bodyguard. Slowly he got up, and raised his fists, positioning himself into a shallow standing squat.

Twelve opponents around him-one big bodyguard. Twelve guns trained at him. Do or die.

He backflipped towards the closest, locking his feet around the surprised man's neck and using his momentum to launch the guard forward at two hostiles. They went flying from the impact into a wall, sending cracks spiralling along the area of impact and did not get up.

Nine to go. The bodyguard stepped back, growling softly.

"OPEN FIRE!" He screamed, and they let loose with full auto. The fools-they were spraying wildly-riddling party-goers and missing. A lot. Herman spun and flipped through the air, the bullets either barely grazing him or smashing into him, either burning him, or make his hair stand up as electricity arced through him. He slid behind a table, but the bullets just tore through it.

Change of plans.

He flipped the table, and kicked it towards three guards who were standing out in the open. It went hurtling at high speed, giving them no time to get out of the way. All three were nailed with it, and went flying through a window into the night.

Six left.

Herman grabbed a steak knife which was embedded in a turkey near his foot, and launched the turkey at a guard who came rushing at him from the right. Caught off-guard, the woman stumbled back, meat juices running off her face and throat, and Herman rushed up to her and kneed her in the stomach. She crumpled, and behind her underneath another table, Herman saw Nihil. It was lodged in a cherry pie, leaking purple fluids everywhere.

A few more bullets hit him in the arm, reminding him of the current danger. He raced forward, but two guards came rushing at him from the right and left. He threw the steak knife at one, which went straight into the poor bastard's eye. Throwing himself forward, Herman seized Nihil and turned back to the other guard, who dropped his weapon and fled. The other guards too sensed the impossible situation, and decided to save their lives.

Only the big bodyguad remained.

"Don't matter how much Aura you got, I'ma keep hitting till there's just paste." The crocodile Faunas said, charging, hammer raised. Herman rushed head on, seemingly carrying himself into to hammer's path. The big lunk watched with glee, only for that to evaporate when the wolf pirouetted and sliced him across the back. The crocodile swung out in anger, but Herman easily ducked the clumsy blow and kicked the bodyguard in the stomach, before following it up with consecutive diagonal strikes, beforing finishing with an overhead blow, right into the alligator's maw. This time, the bodyguard's Aura wasn't there to protect him.

Nihil squealed in pleasure as the teeth ripped the skin and sent cartilage flying. Herman pushed down further, feeling an electric jolt though his body as he watched the flesh and muscle beautifully come apart. His toes and fingers tingled, and a powerful feeling of physical pleasure and sensation swept through him as he broke past the skull revealing the greyish-red brain. He removed Nihil, and stepped back as the crocodile fell over, but Herman was to busy staring at his chainsword as the body-juices dripped off it with a satisfying _squealch._

In the ruckus, someone managed to activate the backup generator, and so the lights came on. Once more, Herman found himself surrounded by torn and shredded corpses.

But he felt nothing for them. It was do or die.

Four trumpet blasts hit him, forcing Herman to his knees. With great difficulty, he looked up and was shocked to see four Flynts, each a different color, targeting him.

"Hey! We're on the same side!" he yelled, but to no avail. Flynt kept playing.

So, it was going to be that way. Herman gritted his teeth and rose to his feet. With great difficulty, he took a step forward. It was difficult to fight against the shockwave, and Herman's grip on Nihil loosened. The weapon fell to the floor.

Herman keeled over, in front of a body of a guard, it's torn torso facing him. Flynt kept playing, thinking that he had Herman on the ropes.

How very wrong he was. Herman reached for the frag on the guard's grenade webbing. Pulling in the pin, he cooked it for a second before tossing it. The trumpet playing immediately abated and Herman dived backwards, covering his face from shrapnel. The blast rocked the room, causing a few bodies to shift about, but nothing more. Herman looked up to see Flynt regaining his feet and dusting himself off. The other three were gone.

He wouldn't give him that chance. Herman grabbed Nihil, but as he bent over he heard a cry of alarm and felt a sharp pain impact his head from behind. Another pain in his back and he fell over the body of a guard.

As his vision cleared, he saw Madam Roznis standing before him, high-heel in hand. Herman began to edge backwards as she picked Nihil up. Flynt was frozen, unsure of who to take down. She smiled, revving up the sword (though her grip wobbled slightly, evidently not accustomed to such a weapon, Herman observed) and charged him.

High heels are not a viable footwear for combat, and a floor slick with blood and entrails only amplifies the 'balancing' problem many women have with high heels. As Madam Rozinis charged, both her heels slipped forwards, causing her to fall backwards and sending Nihil flying up in the air. She landed on the floor, just as Nihil completed a perfectly 180 degrees turn in the air and came plummeting down, blade first onto Madam Rozinis's chest.

She screamed as the weapon parted flesh like hot butter, and shattered her ribcage like glass. She squirmed and struggled, her life's fluid coming out in quick, fast dark red spurts. But no matter how much she struggled, the motorized but just dug deeper. Now she was bleeding from her mouth, and in a last gasp effort she grabbed the blade with her hands, trying to wrench it out. The teeth tracks gleefully tore into her palms and sliced and diced as she spasmed. Flynt's trumpet fell to the floor with a clatter.

Herman rose, just as girl on rollerblades entered the room, followed by many angry guards. But they all went silent when they saw the bloodstained Faunus standing over Madam Rozinis's body. Herman could see their mental constitution was weak, and pliable. Extracting Nihil from her corpse, Herman's eyes burnt as he issued one command.

"Leave." and all of them left, save for the shocked Flynt and Kat. Herman looked at them.

"I thought I could trust you. Flynt, I am no longer allied to the Fang. And send the message to your superiors, that this-" he gestured at the many bodies "-is what I'll do to anyone who tries to stop me." Breathing heavily, splashes of red across his face and clothes, Herman looked feral.

With that, he left the house, walking into the cold frosty night. Once more on his own, he easily found the small river crossing. Somewhere, a child was crying. Herman felt as if a massive weight had been dropped on his heart, suffocating his soul.

"Boy!" It was Khan. Herman sighed as he turned to face him.

"What happened? Oh..." He noticed that Herman was covered in blood.

Herman gestured up towards the house on the hill.

"Up there you'll find your answers."

Khan remained silent as the boy crossed the river, then turned to leave.

As Herman reached the other side, the PMC was waiting for him. He smiled as the boy approached.

"You did good, kid. You did good."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

That night was the largest mass funeral in the history of Khel. Families of the guards clustered in the cemetery, weeping inconsolably. Khan could not fault them, for he knew why one would join Madam Rozinis's service. Instead he hated himself, for trusting that Grimm in human form, who had beguiled them. True, Madam Rozinis was dead, and the corrupt officials were dead, but who was going to provide for those who remained? The Atlesians had left, and there was a garrison of Atlesian-200s stationed to ensure loyalty, nothing else.

Who would lead this flock? Who would nurse them back to health? Who would provide for them?

Khushal Khan Khattak would do that. His forefathers had established this settlement; he would be the one to continue their legacy. It was time to go to work.


	15. Repent

"I'm bored." Ruby whined, flopping down on the bed. It had been many days since the manor, and they had been stuck at the airbase until then.

"Me too." Yang groaned as she flicked through the TV channels. All of them were news channels, locked onto the same thing; the bombing. Microphones were thrust into the faces of the grieving, who described the day in vivid detail.

"A foul beast descended upon us, with a fanged sword black as night and murdered-" a bearded old man was pushed out of the way by a larger, teary eyed man.

"I was just sitting with my d-daughter-" was all a man could muster before collapsing and weeping on camera. Another one, this time a Faunus woman began to scream a litany of complaints about the Atlesian Army's ability to prevent the attack.

"Where were they when we needed to be protected? My family has paid for their-" the TV was switched off by Jaune.

"I can't take much more." JNPR's team leader said. Yang had to agree. It wouldn't do to get depressed.

"I'm going to get some fresh air. Anyone wanna come?" he said.

There was a collective groan of assent as eight bored teens picked themselves up. They had been cooped up for too long, without any relief. Outside, it had begun to rain, with a distant rumble of thunder far off in the distance.

"That Captain Jack doesn't seem to think highly of us." Ren observed.

"I know, right? He doesn't ask us for help, tells us to keep out of the way. We're huntsman and huntresses, we can help!" Weiss protested.

"We'll just have to suck it up for now. Once we get the chance, we'll show him." Nora said.

"That's the spirit." Jaune smiled, only for it to drop when he saw Pyrrha's gloomy face.

"What's wrong?"

"I wonder what sort of monster would do such a thing? From the reports, apparently one survived, and the first thing he does is attack innocent people."

"A devotee of the White Fang, that's who." Blake fiercely hissed.

"You think he's got a connection to who we are chasing? Oooh, maybe they are friends, and they..." Nora launched into another conspiracy theory.

They had only been given a basic sketch of the target, and absolutely nothing else.

"What do you think, Yang?" Ruby asked but before her sister could respond they were rudely interrupted

"KIDS!" they all turned about in shock. The corporal, in full combat gear was rushing after them, flanked by his two robots.

"C'mon, grab your gear. Pathfinders got a trace on the target. On the double!" Finally, a chance. Their blood began to race as they rushed to collect their weaponry.

Finally, time for some action.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Herman shivered as he crawled in the muck. The rain, now coming closer to becoming a torrential downpour, had soaked him to the bone. But there was no time to stop. He crawled onwards, looking back now and then to ensure that the Atlesian patrol had not been following him. Herman cursed his luck. Like a fresh recruit-which he kind of was-he stumbled upon an Atlesian team on the other side of the river. At least they hadn't expected him, and though both were caught by surprise, Herman was faster. Two of their six men were down, their blood mixing with the mud that caked upon his sherwani.

There was a distant shouting, and Herman froze in the tall grass. His wolf ears were swiveling, twitching at the slightest noises; the flow of the river, the chirping of crickets, the sound of grass being trampled underfoot.

Now he could hear it more clearly. Footsteps, a couple of meters to his left. The grass hid him, but it also obscured his vision somewhat. He would have to move to the edge. Crawling forward with a bated breath, he moved as close to the edge of the grass as he dared.

Nothing. Then in the darkness of the grove, came a small glint. Herman quickly rolled to the right as the bullet whistled past him. On cue, four hostiles emerged from the cover, clad in ghillie suits. They opened fire, narrowly missing him as he crawled quickly out of the kill zone. They paused to reload. Rank amateurs.

Herman emerged, Nihil ready. With a roar he swung at one of the ghillies, the blade slicing through the fabric of the uniform and sending the assailant flying back. Two circled around and tried to have one distract him, but Herman called their bluff. He feinted at the lead one, then quickly sidestepped the assailant on his right, who swung forward, bayonet ready. Nihil met the nape of his neck, dropping him to the ground. In panic the other flanker tried reloading but Herman didn't give him that chance. A swift kick sent him tumbling into the river. The one who Herman had feinted pulled out his pistol and fired off a few shots but to no avail; Nihil landed squarely on his chest. Herman was surprised to see that his attackers were not dead; evidently, they too, had Auras.

Then a large force hit him in the side of his face, and Herman stumbled. His jaw stung like hell and there was a terrific ringing in his head. The ghillies got back up and Herman charged them again, smashing one over the head with Nihil, kicking another and shoulder barging the third. The huge force once more hit him in the chest, but this time Herman saw the glint in the woods again. A sniper.

But before he could do anything about it, the Atlas patrol charged in, attracted by the sound of fighting. They immediately opened fire upon the combatants, and Herman fled, feeling several bullets punch into his back. The sensation of Aura blocking a shot was one Herman would never get used to. It was as if someone had slapped him, hard.

Bursting through the undergrowth, a few Beowolves picked up his scent, and their Alpha roared angrily before charging after the boy, its brethren in tow. Before him, Herman could see a clearing in the forest, dotted with tree stumps and stacks of lumber. The sound of sawing rang out from within, and Herman could see a few robotic workers shuffle about, attending to their tasks.

No time to reflect on that though. He darted between the piles of lumber, trying to evade his pursuers, and came face to face with an Atlesian robot. Instead of a right arm however, it had a chainsaw.

"GRIMM DETECTED; SECURITY MODE ENABLED." it beeped, moving past the boy with its chainsaw revved up. The rest of the robots also abandoned their tasks to fight the Grimm. Excellent, Herman thought as he spotted a cargo truck loaded with lumber. Dashing over, he tried in vain to wrench the door open. When that didn't work, he smashed his arm through the window, trying to unlock it. Behind him the Grimm howled as the lumber-bots attacked.

CRACK

This time the bullet when whistling right past Herman's head, shattering the glass entirely. Unfortunately, this action attracted one of the bots as well.

"ATTEMPTS TO DAMAGE COMPANY PROPERTY WILL RESULT IN USAGE OF FORCE. DESIST." it droned on, moving towards him with its weapon ready.

Herman swung round, parrying its swing. Chainsword met chainsaw, and Herman was face to face with the robot, trying to keep up his defense as the friction caused his blade to jump about slightly. Rain trickled down the machine's face.

"VIOLENCE WILL BE MET BY VIOLENCE. DESIST." Its droning voice was starting to annoy him. Behind them, six robots were holding the Grimm at bay. The Alpha Beowulf roared angrily and brought its massive claw on one of the robots, which promptly crumpled like a tin can.

Shoving the robot back, Herman swiftly cut through its 'neck' causing the circuits crackle and snap. A jolt ran up his arm as the head fell off, leaving behind a mass of fizzling wires.

"DESIST. DESIST. DES- _fitz_ -T." It slowly croaked its last before finally shutting up. A Beowulf darted around and tried to swing at Herman, who swiftly counterattacked, slicing the beast's arm before stepping right next to the Beowulf as it recoiled in pain, bringing Nihil just below the Grimm's belly and thrusting upwards.

More gunfire, and more bullets smashed into his back and head sending him reeling into a lumber pile. The Alpha rose victorious from its engagement with the robots, which now lay defeated in a pile of crackling metal. It swung both claws, intending to pulverize the boy, but he quickly rolled between its legs and slashed it across the back. Although Nihil's motorized bite pulled its flesh in, the monster twisted around and swiped him across the chest, causing him to fall back and lose his grip on the chainsword.

The claw ripped the fabric, sending the buttons flying. The clothing parted and fell apart. Looking at the tattered, bullet holed, blue-grey garment, Herman wasn't just angry.

He was fucking pissed.

Roaring back at the Alpha, he charged it before it could react and decked the beast across the maw with his gauntlet. Now it was the Grimm's turn to stagger as a loose fang was dislodged and fell out. Not quite knowing what he was doing, Herman snatched the dissipating tooth and began to violently plunge it back and forth into the gaps in its armor. On the other side, Nihil was whirring and chewing away at its flesh as the beast contracted in pain. Finally, Herman punched into its stab wound with his gauntlet after the fang dissolved. Flesh parted and it fell forward, pulling his arm in deeper. Finally, there was a soft squish as his hand emerged through to the other side, stained red. The beast breathed its last and dissolved as well, and Nihil fell through the air and landed at Herman's feet, its whirring teeth barely missing his toes.

There was a huge roar overhead, and Herman looked up. A huge bullhead was hovering above and by its markings it was of the Atlesian Army. Herman grabbed his weapon and sprinted off towards the forest, but his hopes of escape were dashed when Atlesian soldiers fired from their concealed positions.

Meanwhile, above in the bullhead Captain Lauton was suiting up.

"Right, if it gets dicey for me then you kids jump in." He said as his two robots gave him an equipment check.

They stared at him in shock.

"We're hunters! We can help!" Ruby protested. The rest also raised their voices, agitated at their treatment.

"You're kids, green as summer grass. So, stay." The corporal barked before attaching a rappel to his belt. Though both teams protested, he coolly ignored them and roped down from the craft, along with his robots.

Herman stopped dead in his tracks as an Atlesian corporal and his two robots landed right in front of him. Not letting them get the initiative, Herman charged them, fueled by adrenaline. Before they could even act Nihil sliced through one of the robot's chests, though he got knocked back when the other robot grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and threw him aside, sending Herman skidding across the wet grass.

"Surrender. We've got you outnumbered." called out the human. Herman silently rose to his feet, Nihil ready. His opponents readied their weapons.

"Last warning-" Herman rushed them and they unloaded their weapons into him. But there was a major difference between the opposing forces.

He had an Aura, and they had not.

Lauton blinked as he fired, and in that instant the boy wasn't in front of him.

He was beside him, standing above the other Atlesian-230. Lauton tried to dodge as the boy swung with his chainsword, instinctively blocking.

Then a sudden pain erupted in his side, causing him to fall to his knees, winded. The gun dropped out of his hands as he doubled up and coughed, pain wracking his ribs. Too late, he realized what had happened. The damn kid had feinted, forcing him to block at the wrong angle, exposing his weak sides. The revving was getting louder now, and Lauton closed his eyes.

" _This it it."_

But it never came.

Opening his eyes, he saw his savior, or rather, saviors.

Pyrrha Nikos stood between him and the terrorist, blades locked. Then the other kids dropped around their target, weapons ready.

Herman broke the lock, stepping back as he did so. Surrounded by eight kids his age, with hunter-quality weapons, Herman concluded that the situation was not in his favor.

"Surrender!" squeaked the kid in the red hood at his five 'o' clock. She was younger than the rest, dwarfed by her scythe.

"Or we will attack." said the blond guy next to the redhead, wearing some sort of casual combat attire, if it could be called that. Herman slowly rotated 360 degrees, surveying his opponents.

Redhead, sword and shield. The blond guy had similar weapons. Orange haired girl with a hammer, dancing about. Dark haired boy, dual wielded pistols with blades attached. Blond girl, gauntlets that seemed to be fed with shotgun shells. She'd be a tough one in CQC. Girl with a katana. Judging by her scent and her twitching bow, she was a Faunus. Red hood with a scythe, with an attached scope. This one would have to be taken down fir-

 _Then he saw Weiss Schnee, heiress of the Schnee Dust Company._

 _Clyde held the photograph in front of Herman. It was of a family, all with white hair and blue eyes._

 _"This here is the Schnee Family. The ones who run the Dust Company, but most importantly the ones who ruined your life, as they have done to so many others."_

 _"The Schnee must pay for what they did." Herman was shaking in anger. The scars were still fresh. Clyde put his arm on Herman's shoulder._

 _"That they will. That they will." Clyde agreed._

His grip tightened as once more his blood began to boil and the pounding returned to his ears, his cranium tingling with electricity.

 _The Schnee must pay._

The blond guy shouted at him again, but Herman didn't hear. He adjusted his position, facing the red hood with his right leg stretched in front of him, with the left stretched as far as it would go, letting his knees bend slightly. He brought Nihil close to his side. To all onlookers, it was as if he was preparing to attack the red hooded girl. Everyone readied their fighting stances.

 _The Schnee must pay._

But another voice rose in his head. Clyde again, speaking in a calm, soothing tone.

" _Remain focused, Grauer. Never let your personal feelings affect your actions in battle. You may fight more ferociously for a time, but it makes you blind to your surroundings."_

Deep within himself, he felt a calm and steady hand firmly grip around his wild and rapidly throbbing heart. His Aura was stabilized, his tunnel vision disappeared and his fighting spirit readied itself.

He took a deep breath, and loosened his diamond-crushing grip on the hilt, lowering his sword as he slowly swirled his foot in the sludge and loose mud. The trainee hunters sighed collectively, believing that he was surrendering. Jaune sneezed, before wiping his rain-soaked brow with his forearm, raising his shield in the process and so blocking his view of Herman.

"Good. Now place your weapon on the ground-"Ruby ordered, but she never got to finish it. A massive thunderclap roared above, just as Herman slammed his foot into the dirt around them, channeling his Aura through his leg. The entire area around him was showered with thick, squelchy mud which got into their eyes and forced them to raise their arms to shield themselves.

Ruby's Aura tingled, and acting upon instinct she sped backwards. Just as well, for when she opened her eyes she saw the convict standing where she previously stood, his chainsword screeching where her head used to be. A few rose petals floated about the weapon, and one came into contact with the blade, before being spread into a million tiny little fragments.

Yang lashed out to her left without looking, where she had sensed Herman's malign presence. Her gauntlet blasted into action, and she heard a high pitched cry. Smirking, she looked in the direction of her attack. Purple eyes dilated in shock-for the convict was no longer there!

Blake had clutched her side, weapon hanging loosely from her fingers. The cat gritted her teeth, her gaze fixated below Yang. She didn't get to check, however, as her feet left her and she felt a slight pain in her back. For some reason, the clotted grey clouds seemed to get closer, and the rain beat in her face more fiercely.

" _Impossible!"_ Blake thought, looking at the yellow figure spinning up into the sky. However, she quickly snapped back into action-she couldn't afford to be distracted. She looked to her right, in the direction of metal clashing. The convict was going toe-to-toe with Ruby, a whirlwind of metal and rose petals as the young huntress was forced continuously to dodge and retreat towards an office building. The said building had a sort of narrow passageway leading to it, formed by two large stacks of logs, and Herman intended to force Ruby in there.

"Ruby! Flank him!" Weiss cried, sensing the enemies' tactic, but her cries were lost in the flurry of blades. Dread took hold of her, and her legs felt sluggish and weak as she moved forward.

He rolled beneath a slash of Crescent Rose before rapidly side-stepping to block off the girl's flanking maneuver. She was panicking now, he could see it in her widening silver eyes and her rapidly dilating nostrils, and her movements were becoming predictable. Herman smirked as he shifted his head just as the scythe blade whizzed past and charged forth, forcing her to use her Semblance again to speed into the narrow corridor.

This time, he stayed within slashing distance of Crescent Rose, feinting upwards and leaving himself open. Ruby saw the opportunity, and swung her scythe round her back to increase momentum-only to feel the blade judder and shake, and a shock to travel up her arm. Looking to her right in alarm, she saw that her weapon had sheared through the wood and lost all momentum.

"Your scythe is deadly at long and medium range." Ruby gasped and snapped back to the convict. The big bad wolf was standing right before her, his eyes filled with bluish-grey mist which obscured his pupils. For some reason, she couldn't move no matter how she tried to lift her feet. Her heart rapidly thudded, and all she could do was stare back into the misty abyss.

"But in close quarters, it's-"At this point the convict's boyish face contorted hideously, a bestial smile spreading across his face, "-Useless! Useless, useless, useless, useless, useless!"

The first attack smashed into her stomach, sending her reeling, sickness in her belly as the other smashed into her left cheekbone and filled her face with fire. He shoved his knee into her chest, and grabbed her by the hair before delivering a blow with the force of a freight train, sending her flying back to the office door. Crescent Rose clattered to the ground.

Herman giggled-that doubt, that uncertainty- _it was fighting fuel for him._ He was so pleased, that he failed to take notice of a high-velocity Yang descending upon him. Indeed, the only thing he felt was a 240mm caliber artillery shell land upon him, and soon after he was lying in a deep trench. Groaning, he forced himself up and saw that he was approximately twenty or so meters away from the building, where a new trench had just formed.

And the other team was coming full-throttle at him.

Meanwhile, back at the building Yang knelt by her sister. The fire had gone out of her eyes when she saw her sibling's flickering Aura and roughed-up state.

"Rubes! You okay!"

"Yes….yes, Yang." She opened one of her silver eyes with great effort.

"First, as I descended I thought I'd fall upon him like a ton of bricks. But when I saw him touch you, I thought I'd come down upon him like a meteor." She rose and smashed her fists together. "And I'm still not done!" But although she burned with bravado, she couldn't help but feel a tinge of fear. The enemy was a complete savage-he could not be allowed to touch her. Gritting her teeth, she calmed her fearful heart, rushing into battle with a blaze of fury.

Herman parried Jaune's slash and riposted, but had to quickly break off to defend himself against Ren-only to instinctively dodge Nora's hammer blow-but just then he was smashed in the back of the head with a spear.

" _Shit! They were pushing me where they wanted!"_ Herman cursed as his vision flickered, and he rolled across the dirt before beginning the clash of steel-on-steel again. Their redhead was particularly dangerous. They moved quickly around him, encircling him.

" _Yes! We've surrounded him-he can't dodge and parry several blows at once!"_ Jaune thought, and at that very moment their arms rose to strike.

That very moment, Herman smirked.

"Now I have you where I want you. You've already lost, blondie."

"What?!" Jaune cried, his arm feeling as if twelve tons had been clamped to it-he just couldn't seem to bring down his sword. He could see that Pyhrra too, was shaken, as were Ren and Nora. They had him surrounded! Was he being-?

Nora seized up, uncertain of her next move as the convict spoke. He seemed to exude a veritable Aura of repulsion and dread, and it was getting on her nerves.

Herman chuckled (the sound filling Nora's heart with creeping dread), kneeling slightly as he spun on his heel, swinging his blade in a 360 degree arc right into their unprotected bodies. First Ren, then Nora, then Jaune (who's Shield Guard was too high) and Pyhrra. But Nihil's momentum had slowed, and Pyhraa was able to effectively block. The rest went flying back, but were soon on their feet and ready to battle.

Having secured Ruby by depositing her and her weapon in the Bullhead, the remaining members of RWBY hurried to aid JNPR. Blake quivered slightly at the knees, prompting Yang to place a calming hand on her shoulder.

Herman grinned and rushed at Mistral's best fighter, who lowered her shield at his charge. He leapt into a flying kick, intending to bounce off her shield, but she instead returned with her own high kick into Herman's chest, sending him flying towards Nora.

"Hi!" She cheerily greeted him, her cheer acting as a mask for her fear, before trying to cave his face in. He rolled this way and that, avoiding the multiple hammer blows. Acting quickly, he moved into a crouching position and rolled right at her feet as she struck with the hammer. The handle slightly bumped against his head, but he was in position now. His legs shot forth and clamped around her neck like a predator's jaws, and he used his forearms and elbows as leverage to launch the crazy girl at her green-suited companion. Leaping to his feet, he parried several gunshots and charged onwards at Jaune Arc.

Meanwhile, Ren dodged the orange and pink blur and sprinted onwards-this convict had to be stopped. Nora went flying into a log pile, splintering the lumber and sending wooden shards everywhere. Having decimated the logs at the bottom, the upper logs were displaced and came tumbling down on her. The very wind was knocked out of her, and she lay there for but a moment before focusing her strength on moving the logs off her.

" _Damn….can we even beat him…?"_ She thought before looking over at the lumber truck.

Jaune tried to shield bash, but Herman quickly dodged to the left and smashed his gauntlet into the boy's side before delivering an overhead blow with Nihil.

"Too slow, too slow! Who taught you how to fight?" Herman mocked the dazed boy before delivering a flurry of slashes upon his body, before lifting him from the front of his hoodie with his left hand and smashing him into the dirt repeatedly.

Just then, he got shot multiple times in the back and was forced to abandon Jaune in a crumpled heap on the ground. Spinning around, he blocked Ren's, Pyhrra's and Blake's gunshots. The closest, Ren, quickly leapt and attempted to slash downwards upon Herman's head, but the convict caught his arm-but Ren quickly swung his foot and smashed it into Herman's chest. He dropped the silent hunter, and parried his next few strikes, before once more grabbing at Ren with his gauntlet. The boy easily dodged backwards, as Herman thought he would. Ren's eyes opened wide, just as he realized his mistake.

Nihil came down upon him, screeching and wailing in delight, smashing down upon his head. Stunned, he took a kick to the face, causing him go flying at the few trainee hunters still standing. They were able to get out of the way, and came charging full-bore at him. Herman smiled, and prepared to launch into his own attack-but just then his world became stars and birdies as darkness reigned. Multiple shots landed into his exposed head-and Ruby smirked. Lying down from her position in the Bulhead, it had given her a perfect vantage point.

Yang smashed him in the gut with her gauntlet, firing at point blank range before giving him a left-and-right to the face with shotgun blasts. Blake slashed multiple times at his side, before firing multiple times as Weiss rapidly darted in and out, stabbing. Pyhrra spun her sword, ready to deliver the _coup de grace._

But just then, Herman jerked into action. He rushed forward with unprecedented speed at Pyhrra, and his hands locked around her waist as he was about to head-butt her-or would've had he still not been blind. Instead, he shoved his face….lower. Still, as a distracting maneuver it worked, as he pushed a flustered Pyhrra back with his bull rush and saved him her spear strike which narrowly crossed over his head. His knee came up, smashing the Mistralian fighter in the gut and he followed it up with Nihil after freeing himself from her. He spun Nihil in multiple screaming forward arcs, using his weapon as a conduit for his Aura. The blade caught her around the face and chest multiple times, before a forward thrust knocked her flat on her back.

" _What a perverted, underhanded tactic…."_ She thought, her head hurting massively as her vision nearly blacked out.

Now Herman was attacking the three members of RWBY, spinning, twisting and slashing like no tomorrow. Which in his case was very much possible.

" _I mustn't let them breathe, or use their semblances."_ He thought, nearly skewering Blake with his attack. In fact he did, but just then the Dust clone exploded and he went slipping on a chunk of ice created by Weiss. Yang leapt upon him, smashing his face with her Gauntlets, and Herman felt as if a howitzer was being fired at him, point blank.

" _I'm not dying here. I WON'T!"_ He jerked his leg sharply upwards, smashing his foot into the back of her head. Yang fell forward, but was soon on her feet-

Too late. Herman was upon her, his eyes filled with mist again, ready to feed off fear and pain. Nihil squealed happily as the blades smashed into her back, before Herman swept her up with the blade and spun around before kicking her into the woods.

" _No! No-one stands after I use my Semblance….I've failed you all…"_ Yang wailed within her mind in despair, uncertain of the fates of her friends.

Just then, Herman spun round instinctively and slapped Blake with his gauntlet, leaving behind a muddy trail. The attack had no force behind it, but it served its purpose-the very moment her clones formed he could differentiate and go for the real Blake.

But just then, they retreated and Herman spun to find himself facing a super-powered Nora. Her hair was somewhat frizzy, and her exposed skin was impressively goose-pimpled. For when she had freed herself from the logs, she had headed immediately for the truck, seized a pair of jumper cables from beneath the seat and then went over to the battery. Placing one on her tongue, she 'charged' herself.

For the next minute and a half, all was hammers. Smashed from multiple directions, Herman was dimly aware of being sent soaring through the sky before smashing into the dirt, forming a massive crater. With great effort, fighting against torrents of pain, he pulled himself out of the pit and found himself the very person he was looking for.

The white haired girl danced about gracefully in the rain, stabbing towards him. His Aura was near gone, he was at the end of his limit, but none of that mattered.

 _The Schnee must pay._

He walked on, ignoring the searing pain in his stomach. A fresh pain emerged in his back as the rapier passed all the way through, but that did not matter. He was close enough.

 _The Schnee must pay._

His hands brushed her cheeks before settling around her throat. They tightened.

 _The Schnee must pay._

The grip loosened, and Herman saw her get further and further away. The two teams rushed to the combatants, trying to assess the damage, but Herman was somewhere else now.

Now he was back in the rubble, coughing on the thick choking dust. The PMC stood before him and grasped his wrist roughly, before placing them in cuffs. Attached to the steel linkage holding the cuffs together, was the bomb. It beeped, and began to tick down.

10...9...8...7...6

The dead were all around him, faces twisted in ghoulish delight.

5...4...3...2...1

The inferno consumed them, and all Herman could do was scream.


	16. Beacon

Chapter 15: Beacon

The Assassin watched with displeasure as his prey was bundled into the bullhead. Seething with rage, he turned back to the sole survivor of his squad. The Faunus was trembling, but not due to the cold.

Rank amateurs. Sometimes the Assassin pined for his old friends. They would have been so much more capable in hunting down one of their own.

The Assassin reached for his holster. Light brown dog ears twitched in fear, and the survivor closed its emerald-green eyes. Quick as a flash, the Assassin had pressed the cold, heavy steel against the survivor's head.

A prayer escaped her lips before the Assassin pulled the trigger.

The prisoner began to whimper softly, causing Ruby to shift uneasily. Whenever he did that it was a sign that he would begin to scream. Unending howls of pain; followed by needy whines for mercy. Ruby got the feeling that he wasn't addressing them.

Pyrrha sat with Jaune, but they made no conversation. She held her hands around her head, which still rang with pain. It was getting smaller in intensity, like church bells slowing to a halt, but it didn't prevent Jaune from getting sick out of worry rather than motion sickness as was usually the case.

Once more, the prisoner began to howl, cutting off everyone's conversation. Even the stoic Jack Lauton dropped his rifle.

"By Oum, how long is he going to keep that up?" he asked with a mixture of annoyance and irritation. No-one answered. The howling faded to whining, mixed with what seemed like sobbing. Ruby shifted nervously in her seat, which was closest to the prisoner. He now seemed to be staring a thousand miles off into the distance, with his steel-grey hair hanging over his hazy blue eyes. At least the wound had stopped bleeding, thanks to his Aura. The one affected worst of all seemed to be Weiss. She sat firmly in one corner, as far away as possible.

"Hey, you okay?" Blake asked.

"Did you see how he was glaring at me? And how he specifically attacked me?" she shuddered with disgust. "I'm just glad that he's shackled up."

Blake wasn't sure of what to say to that.

Hours later their little transport fleet had merged with the larger Atlesian convoy heading to Vale. Jaune uttered a groan of relief as they finally touched down upon the landing pad. Sore from the fight, propelled by thoughts of warm showers and soft beds the trainee hunters stumbled out of the craft.

"Hey there, Red." Ruby turned to face Lauton.

"I'm sorry about underestimating you." Lauton sheepishly scratched his brown moustache. Ruby smiled.

"It's all right."

"Right, I'll escort the prisoner. Pass my gratitude onto the rest of your team. Y'all will make great hunters someday, I can feel it." The man shuffled his feet sheepishly, turning his head away. " _Seven years fighting' all sorts of horrors and this little girl is making me feel like trash._ "

Groggy, Herman was pulled to his feet by the corporal. On shaky legs he was propelled along the academy, his mind too dazed to take in the magnificent architecture. Finally, they came to a halt, infront of a middle-aged woman who had very light-blonde hair tied back in a bun with a curl hanging down the right side of her face. Her bright green eyes were adorned with thin ovular glasses.

"Very well, corporal. I'll take it from here." she said, imperiously.

"As you wish, Ma'am. Where should I put his things?"

"Deliver them to Ozpin's office." Upon hearing this name, Herman perked up slightly. Suddenly, he was eight or nine years old again, sitting with his father at the front porch.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 _"Beacon Academy's headmaster Ozpin is one of the finest men I ever knew." Caleb opined, refilling his pipe with tobacco. Striking a match, the old Hunter took a deep puff before exhaling several grey rings skywards._

 _"Will I ever get to meet him?" Herman asked, his eyes fixated on the tiny puffy rings which slowly dissipated the further they got._

 _"That you will, once you're old enough to join. When you're seventeen. Till then, I'll keep training you myself, have you enrolled in a combat school once you're fifteen."_

 _Herman shivered in anticipation of the next day's challenge, as he pulled up his right sleeve and examined a rich purple welt on his left arm, a memento of a nasty tumble he took earlier that morning. Along his arm, and his body were slowly fading yellow bruises._

" _All part of the training, Herman. Prepares you for the job." Caleb murmured, tapping his right knee._

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

What would dear old dad say if he saw Herman now.

Onwards they marched, into a cavernous hall and into an office, where two men stood. Herman recognized both, General Ironwood and Headmaster Ozpin.

"Well, James?" Ozpin said.

The General tightened his fists.

"I'd prefer to have him onboard my ship, where I can interrogate him at my pleasure."

"Ah, but you forget James, that my hunters captured him, and he is my prisoner as much as he is yours. So, it'll be in our mutual interest for him to be here." Herman could see that this displeased the General greatly, what with the creases deepening across his forehead.

"Fine. But you may want to leave."

"I'll stay right here. Glynda?"

"What are you going to do to him, James?"

"What's necessary."

"Surely you don't mean-" Herman tuned out of their conversation. He didn't care what happened to him now. A firm force exerted itself on his shoulders, and he found himself sitting in front of the General, who began to blabber on about 'deep water' and 'info' and... whatever.

"Are you listening?" Herman jerked his head towards the General. He didn't like how he spoke, his abrasive 'in-your-face manner'. This guy clearly wasn't skilled with interrogation; instead of building a rapport he just spat out questions laced with threats. Maybe he preferred the other way. In that case, Herman was glad Ozpin was keeping him here, rather than in the General's ship.

"The answers are in my hands, General." Herman finally spoke up, tired of the entire charade. Ironwood looked down at Herman's shackled hands. Four fingers on each hand were curled up, only one on each stood erect.

To Ironwood's credit, he maintained a stern upper lip, though fury blazed in his eyes. Hands clenched, he stepped back while staring at Herman.

"Hello, Herman." the boy looked up, surprised to see Ozpin welcome him in such cordial terms.

"Do you know me?" Herman croaked.

"Not directly. But I know of your father, Caleb." Herman remained silent.

"What happened? Last time your father wrote to me, he was full of praise, talking about how you were preparing for combat school. Three years passed since that last letter, and you're now involved with the White Fang." Ozpin quizzically raised his left eyebrow.

" _What the hell, why not._ "

So, he told Ozpin the entire story. Sometimes, words failed him, and he struggled to regain control of his emotions, before pushing on. When it came to the bombing, Herman seized up, found it difficult to breathe as tears welled up in his eyes. He wisely left out the part where he felt a sickly pleasure gazing upon the destruction.

Once the tale was over, Ozpin leaned forward, fingertips joined.

"A sad tale. I only wish that it was all false." he said wistfully.

"What do you mean?" Herman asked with trepidation.

"You know the implications of your actions. After the Vytal Festival, there will be a trial. Purely for show, since you've already been convicted of several counts of murder and terrorism." Herman felt all hope drain from him. He knew the penalty of terrorism. These bastards were dead set on seeing him dangle.

"Why go after me? I was just a Private, following orders, acting as I was trained to do. There are bigger fish in the pond!" Herman protested, though lead encased his heart. "True, true. But Ironwood has made up his mind, and in the end your fate lies with him, not me." Herman was now desperately clutching at straws, looking for an avenue of escape.

"Goddamnit, I renounced my allegiance. Kill me, and all you're doing is making their work easier. They're afraid of me, of, of, of...the information that I could leak!" Herman couldn't stop his voice from rising to a pitch.

"Information, truly a valuable thing. But tell me, as a Private what could you leak?" Ozpin just had to put a pin in his hopes.

"I know where their base in Atlas is. I know that they're working with Roman Torchick for arms and Dust. I know quite a bit. I wasn't any grunt; I was special forces. A rookie, but still." Ozpin's eyes gleamed, and Herman knew that he had piqued his interest. Even so, the boy felt conflicted. He recalled the Faunus he fought along; most were ordinary folk fighting because their lives depended on it.

"Tell me, Herman, how did it feel like to kill?" Herman was taken aback by the change in topic. Once more he heard the screaming, and again he was surrounded by bodies, the stench of putrefaction thick in his nose. Then he reluctantly answered.

"At first, I was hesitant. Sickened at times. Yet I pushed on, and now…. now I…" Herman remembered how he smiled at the party, the euphoria flooding through him. But he wasn't done.

"But as I killed, I just kept adding to the pile of regrets. They didn't stay dead. They came after me, as I slept, as I ate, as I hid. No matter where I went, they kept haunting me." Herman was sobbing now. Pangs of regret rang deep in his chest, and maggots were squirming within him. He blinked; shaky memories of the dead fused into one collective mass of screaming, Nihil's roar reigning above them all.

"The hour grows late, and I feel we will not get any information tonight. Ironwood, would you have your men take him to the cell?"

Rough hands grasped Herman, pulling him from the chair. He felt the heavy chains fall from his wrists, and he was frog-marched down countless hallways. He didn't see where they went; he kept his eyes closed the entire time. A heavy door swung open, and he was tossed in.

Herman collapsed against the cold cement. He curled up, swallowed by regret, and with dread he heard the PMC's voice in his ear.

"You'll hang for sure."

Herman shuddered and tried to stop the tears from coming, but they came anyway. Tucked away in the deep recesses of his mind, he could hear screaming.

Meanwhile in Ozpin's office, the great man ruminated on past events.

"What do you think?" Goodwitch asked, her fierce eyes softening as Ozpin listened to the recording.

"He is dangerous, but even the most savage dog can be tamed and used for our purposes. I shan't let him hang, not yet."


	17. New Dawn

Chapter 16: New Dawn

Herman wearily opened his eyes. The pale morning light filtered through the bars, shining directly on his face. For a moment he was back home, but as he gazed at the grey concrete wall, the realization hit him.

He was being held prisoner at Beacon Academy, for who knows how much time until they dragged him out of the cell and to the gallows. Groaning, he pressed his hands to his face.

" _A failure, that's what he was. And now he'd meet an ignominious end._ "

He lay there for a while, before forcing himself to his feet. If these were truly his last days, then he'd not give his captors the satisfaction of seeing him all mopey.

He closed his eyes and inhaled, trying to think of a happy memory.

Age seven, at the peach orchard. Mom had handed him the first fruit of the season. Even now, Herman could faintly taste the succulent juices.

" _Alright, now to exhale. Rinse and repeat_."

Soon enough, he had bottled up all the rage, sorrow and anxiety. For now.

Trying not to linger on such thoughts, Herman dropped to the ground, beginning his workout schedule. Around three hundred pushups or so, the muscles began to ache and burn. On your feet Private Grauer, he thought as he launched himself into various stretches and lunges.

"Why do you build yourself? It ain't gonna do you no good." The PMC snarled from the shadows.

"Fuck off." Herman snarled back, and the PMC did.

There was a sudden creak of the door-flap, and a tray was slid in. Sausages, eggs and some cake. A welcome change from the monotonous MRE fare. As Herman picked up the tray, he noticed something wedged beneath the plate. Hesitantly lifting it, he saw an envelope. Who was writing to him, while he was in jail? " _Dear Herman, we hope you are in the best of health and are sincerely enjoying your time in prison..."_

Ripping it open, a notepad and a few color pencils fell out. Herman was dumbfounded. What the hell was he supposed to do with these? On the first page, there was a note.

 _I know of your fears, and the torment you endure every day. To be rid of them, you must confront them. This is the first step to healing._

No signature. Herman sighed in exasperation. He needed a way out, not some fucking art project. As if he was some goddamned artist. Dropping the pad and the pencils, he turned to his meal and ravenously dug in, before returning to his exercise.

Night came, and so did the nightmares. Herman woke up in cold sweat, tightly gripping the thin bedsheets. Rising, he looked at the discarded notepad and color pencils. With shaky hands, he picked up the pad and a black pencil, and began to sketch.

He didn't know how long it took, but in the end, he was done. Sliding the tray-the sketch placed upon it-beneath the door, he staggered back to bed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ozpin blinked at the incomprehensible scribbles and dashes; he briefly reconsidered his attempt at trying to get a further insight into the boy's psyche. Sighing, he slid the document into an envelope and typed out a directive to Beacon's counselor and sent it into the OUT box.

" _I've got better things to be doing._ " He thought as he glanced at the fugitive's confiscated scroll. That was going to go to a technician for a few modifications. Then, he could talk to the boy again at the right time.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It was during one of these drawing sessions when strange things began to happen to Herman. Not the hormonal impulses triggered by the lack of inhibitor pills, but something more.

Late into the night, as he drew, Herman would shut his eyes and look deep down in his soul, extracting his darkest moments and fears. Every drawing was a purging, the pencil and paper his sole flame in darkness. A familiar tingling began in his skull, and Herman opened his eyes.

The world was desaturated, and he felt extremely strange, like a porcupine was crawling about his skull. His ears stood stiff and alert, and he could hear a hushed conversation coming from outside his cell.

"Hey Greg? You got more of this stuff?" Connor grinned, holding up the bottle. " _This is so very wrong, but it's so very boring to guard this door. Who cared, there was some sort of party going on at the school. Everyone was having fun, so why shouldn't we?"_ The Atlesian dwelled on these philosophical thoughts before taking a deeper swig.

Greg snorted, before crashing to the swaying ground. Connor giggled before childishly clapping his hands to his mouth, looking about to see if anyone had heard them. The door behind him budged and scraping noises came from within.

"Huh? Who-who there?" he belched, pulling out his handgun and pointing at the steel door.

"Open it. I'm thirsty, man, I need something." Herman said loudly.

"I dunno, maaaaaan…." The guard belched.

"Look, I've got some stuff they didn't find during the search. You boys wanna party? I'll give it to you for a bottle of whatever you're drinking."

The Atlesian pondered this exchange, the gears in his smooth brain turning slowly.

"Sounds good to me." Connor mumbled before swiping at the door's keycard lock. It took him a few tries to fit it in, but he got it in the end. " _I sure do hope he's got something good!_ "

The next thing he saw was a fist careening towards is face, followed by darkness

Herman blinked, dispelling the burning sensation in his eyes, though the electric tingling remained. The door swung open, and the guard stumbled, causing Herman to instinctively knock the unfortunate man out. He felt a strange chill of satisfaction run up his spine as he saw some red leak from the guard's nose.

The cool night breeze blew through the air, and Herman hesitated before stepping out.

"Looks like you got your freedom. Make a break for it, why don't ya?" Finally, the PMC was not spouting inane gibberish for once. Herman grinned and flexed his fist. He was not sure of what he did, but he did like the results. His Aura began to flow through him, revitalizing his strength. Far away, he could hear music.

Herman grinned as he picked up the guard's sidearm. It was time to head back out into the night.


	18. Confrontation

Chapter 19: Confrontation

Herman crept through the shadows, taking great care to stay in the camera's blind spot. It swiveled left, and he got his chance to dart around the corner and promptly dove into the flower bed, lying still as a mouse. Holding his breath, he expectantly peered out at the landing pad.

His hopes were instantly shattered. For every goddamn aircraft, they had a dozen robots clustered around. It also didn't help that the command ship was also stationed nearby, multiplying the guard numbers.

Herman heard footsteps approaching and he quickly rolled out of the flowerbed and crawled another dark corner. Hugging the side of the wall, he ended up facing what appeared to be some sort of dance hall, judging by the loud music emanating from within.

Well, shit. He had no way out, and if he were to be discovered now then his predicament would grow even more dire. Suddenly someone emerged from the front steps, causing Herman to press back up against the wall. It was that black-haired sniper-scythe girl, the one younger than her comrades. Nice dress though-

Herman slapped himself. He needed to keep his thoughts about him. And up his dosage, if he could find more inhibitor pills. Maybe he ought to head back to his cell. Suddenly, the girl perked up, having noticed something. Herman froze before slowly taking a step back.

But her interest was not directed at him. She was looking at something else. She hesitated a moment, then ran off in the general direction of the CCTN tower, it's outlines prominent against the night sky.

Now the way was clear. Herman bolted across the open stretch between the main building and the dance hall; now he was pressed up against the cool concrete, cautiously edging along the side, making his way to the rear. Then there was laughter, prompting him to peek around the corner.

Two students, standing arm-in-arm, gazing at the shattered moon. One had sea-blue hair and was clad in a formal black suit with gold trim. The other needed no description, for Herman knew who she was.

Herman looked down at the pistol. Unsuppressed, and they had Auras. For this he'd have to get in closer.

"Hey Neptune! Come on man, you've gotta see this!" A voice called out, shattering the couple's little moment.

"What is it?" responded the blue haired one, sounding annoyed.

"Jaune's wearing a dress!" That got his attention; he turned to leave before looking back at Weiss Schnee.

"You coming?"

"I'll come soon." she responded. That satisfied him, he walked off.

" _Thank you, Neptune, Neptune's friend and Jaune, whoever you lot were_." Herman thought. Now his job was much easier. He wanted to savor it, make her feel everything he had endured. Once more the comforting feeling of rage filled him. Yet beneath the red-hot sea of fury a niggling voice was nagging at him, chastising him, telling him that this was all very wrong. Squashing the internal voice of dissent, he crept up on his unsuspecting prey.

Quivering in excitement, he pounced. One arm swiftly coiled round her soft neck, the other behind her head. He brought her down to the ground, hooking his legs round the insides of her knees. She tried desperately to buck him off and scream, writhing and squirming, but Herman fixed that little problem by applying more pressure. The hand looped around her neck connected with the bicep of his free arm. He curled his free hand into a fist and pushed it against the back of her head while tightening his grip. She thrashed and squirmed, but slowly her movements became more sluggish and weaker, and finally she went slack. The whole thing had taken five seconds.

She wasn't dead, merely unconscious. He wouldn't let her die until she begged for it. He hoisted her over his shoulder and cautiously made his way back to the hallways. Walking down the hall, he immediately ducked into the classroom next to him as he heard someone approaching. He ducked behind the large desk, waiting with bated breath. Mounted on the wall, Grimm heads held their vigil over the classroom. The patrol passed by the door, and they were in the clear.

Placing the unconscious girl on the large chair, Herman pulled open a few drawers, trying to find something to tie her down with. He ought to have torn up the bedsheets and used them; but now it was far too late for that. In one he found a large bottle of port, another had a few books on hunting Grimm, written by Peter Port. Third time lucky; he found a few red handkerchiefs. They were suitably thick for the task at hand. He grabbed them and promptly fastened her wrists and ankles to the arms and legs of the chair respectively. The last one was stuffed into her mouth. Herman stepped back, admiring his handiwork. Now to wake the little heiress up. Grabbing the bottle of port, he quickly uncorked it and splashed it across her face.

She woke, blue eyes hazy at first but then they dilated in fear upon realization. Herman smiled as she tried to squirm free of the bonds. When she tried to spit out the cloth stuffed in her mouth, he quickly pressed the gun against her forehead. She looked at him with disbelief, which settled to a stare of hatred and revulsion.

"She's at your mercy now. What you gonna do? I have a few suggestions..." The PMC stood behind her, resting his hairy hands upon her white hair.

The first blow knocked her head to the left, the second to her right. Herman flexed his hand. This felt good. Finally, the Schnee would pay.

She looked at him again, and Herman hated that little fucking contemptuous, self-righteous stare.

"You mocking me? You mocking me?" He tilted his head to the right, before decking her across the face again.

"Fuck you." he spat. Her cheek was turning red, where he had struck her. Her expression changed, into one of hurt and pleading. Those goddamn ice-blue eyes bored right into his, but unlike the hateful stare this gave him a... prickly, uncomfortable feeling in his heart.

"No. No...no, no. Don't you wimp out on this. Don't be such a fucking pussy. The Schnee must pay." The PMC angrily cursed at him.

"The Schnee must pay." Herman echoed uncertainly, though his grip on the trigger grew weak. He shut his eyes, screaming internally all the while. He saw his house burn. Yet….

" _Why? Why can't I pull the trigger?"_

"You can kill me today, but I can guarantee that you won't live past this night if you do." Herman's eyes flew open. Horrified, he saw that she had managed to somehow spit the cloth gag out. His heart raced and the handgun raised, ready to pull the trigger.

"Think about it. The authorities want you really badly-are you willing to kill the heiress of an influential company? Are you willing to suffer more?" She said with utmost finality, cutting him to the bone.

Herman gritted his teeth, his eyes watering. His breathing was heavy and his cheeks hot.

"You must have a future past all of this. I suggest you don't squander it."

"Shut up!" Herman yelled, not caring. He battered the pistol against his head, and looked up at the heiress, and the PMC behind her. "Your company took everything! My house, my family! It's all because of them!"

" _My_ company?" She said incredulously. "You mean the one my father runs? The one where I have no say in what goes on? The one I left behind in Atlas, to risk my life and limb in becoming a huntress?"

Herman remained quiet, his brain a turmoil of electrons. To gain a little clarity, he hit his head on the floor. The concrete cracked, and he left behind a tiny crater.

"If you're looking for vengeance, you've got the wrong person. Maybe you should take a little time to evaluate your life goals, rather than screwing everything up for yourself a little further-"Weiss was going to say more, but Herman got up all of a sudden, his weapon raised. She gulped, staring into the bright grey-blue sparks in the darkness.

"The Schnee must pay." The bullet cleaved its way through the PMC's head, shattering its skull and sending bloody bone fragments everywhere.

"But not this one." Herman concluded.

Weiss opened her eyes, surprised. The Faunus was shaking and quivering, weapon raised.

But he had not fired at her. She twisted her head back as far as her bonds would allow, and saw a small, smoking hole in the board.

Herman dropped to his knees, undoing her bonds. He felt worthless and pathetic; a dozen voices hurled insults at him, echoing about in his brain.

Weiss uncertainly got up from the chair, carefully edging away from the weeping Faunus. Down the hall, she could hear footsteps rapidly approaching their position.

"If you want to, here is the gun." he offered the sidearm to her. Weiss pushed his hand away, causing him to look at her in shock.

An Atlesian robot burst into the room, accompanied by three others. Firmly, they seized the boy and escorted him to Ozpin's office, while one stayed behind and evaluated the girl. The last Herman saw of Weiss was her flanked by military personnel, staring him down.

Herman was once more slammed down in the chair, before Professor Ozpin.

"I must say Herman, you are very talented at sneaking about. You didn't show up on two or three cameras." he said while facing a screen. Herman looked at the displayed camera feed, which had recorded his activities, even what had transpired in the class. Herman couldn't help but notice that the camera seemed to be mounted in the same position as the head.

"Tell me, Herman. When you had the Schnee Heiress in your jaws, why did you let her go?" Herman was once more caught off-guard.

"She is not my target." he answered stiffly.

"Then who is? Who else will fall on your quest for revenge?" Herman grimaced. The prickly feeling of shame spread all over him. Closing his eyes, he thought long and well before answering.

"I just couldn't do it, okay? Couldn't pull the trigger. She was there and helpless, and I couldn't do it." he said, defeated. "Can't seem to kill nobody if they haven't got a weapon first. Then they're fair game."

Ozpin leaned back, contemplating.

"Here I was thinking you were past any point of salvation. At least you have some self-restraint, and that might just be your redemption."

"What do you mean, sir?"

"Some would believe that justice would be best served by ensuring your demise. But there would be no greater injustice than that."

"Sir?"

"What I intend to say, is that you seek redemption, and the best way to earn that is to became what you've been trained to be. Thus, I have decided; I will help you in your case after the Vytal Festival."

"But why are you helping me?" Herman asked, incredulous.

"Everyone has a purpose in life to fulfill. Some good, some bad. It is all part of the larger picture. And I feel that you still have a part to play, however small that part is. Anyone, no matter how weak and small they are, can make a major difference. Anyone can be redeemed. Anyone can be saved from darkness. That is my firm belief."

"What does this mean for me, sir?" Herman tentatively asked.

"This means that you will be allowed access to the library. I suggest you start reading up on Law and History, to help argue your case in court."

"Am I not convicted already?"

"Convictions may be overturned."

"I really don't know what to say, sir."

"Express your gratitude through your actions, Herman. And now, I believe it is time for bed." Herman rose from the chair and turned to leave.

"Oh, and Herman?"

"Yes, sir?"

"I'm very interested in how you got the guard to open the door. Perhaps someday you might deign to share that information with me?"

"I will, sir." And with that Herman walked back to his cell, his soul lighter than it had been in a long time.


	19. South East

Chapter 18: South East

The next morning, Herman sat in the library leafing through immense tomes on Military Law, Vale and Atlas's Judicial system, International Law...his eyes felt heavy and his brain grew more sluggish with every page. Occasionally there would be an eye-catching passage.

 _The notorious terrorist Joseph Kuda was not convicted of any of his crimes and walked away a free man before being gunned down by unknown assailants on the courthouse steps. The fact that the Vale Records Office had been burnt down an hour earlier was deemed irrelevant._

 _The capture of the wanted [REDACTED] on Mistralian soil by covert Atlas specialists set back relations between kingdoms to the point his case was never resolved; Hearthfire died at the age of seventy-one in an Atlesian jail as the two kingdoms argued over his case. He was captured at the age of thirty-two._

 _So far, there has been no record of a person convicted of terrorist activities being pardoned. See below for complete list of executed terrorists._

Herman yawned and scratched his ear. So far, he could conclude;

1) He was bored.

2) He was hungry.

3) He was fucked.

Herman looked about in the library. No-one was there, for all the students had headed off to the auditorium. Judging by the sound of conversation and the thudding of many feet off in the distance, they had just left. He lifted his scroll-it had been returned to him via food tray-and idly browsed the CCTnet.

One student entered, and Herman's nose twitched at that familiar scent. Peeking up from his book, he saw it was the Faunus he had fought at the lumber yard. Herman's fingers twitched. He bore her no animosity, but he sure did miss Nihil. Ozpin had reassured him that he had the weapon, but still.

The Faunus paid him no mind and wandered over to a round, fuzzy, tubby sort of woman behind the counter. Herman sort of liked her, because she smelt strongly of peaches.

"Oh, hello Miss Belladonna." she said, looking up from her book, Encyclopedia Mistralia

"Hello, Professor. I just wanted to return this book."

"Done already? My, you are one fast reader. I suppose today you are heading out for a mission somewhere?"

"Ah yes, in twenty minutes we've got to head to South-East Vale." Herman perked up at this. South-East Vale...he scratched about in his memory, trying to remember where he heard it. It stuck him-the last location Clyde had mentioned.

Herman looked at the books he was reading, and the prospect of staying grew drearier by the passing second. In one second, he came to a resolution.

He was going to South-East Vale too. He couldn't bear sitting about in the dusty library; he needed some action.

Nonchalantly, he placed the books back on the shelf and casually sauntered out. The Faunus gave him a strange look but said nothing.

" _Obviously, they were going to leave in a bullhead, but which one_?" His eyes roved over the many aircraft parked on the airfield. " _Only one way to find out. Gonna have to be discreet about it, though._ "

"Is this fine aircraft going to South-East Vale?" Herman gave his best winning smile, slapping his hand against the metal hull.

"Nope." replied the pilot, waving a hand in front of his face.

"Is this fine aircraft going to South-East Vale?"

"Nope. Uh, and you should get those eyes checked, man." replied the other pilot, and as soon as Herman sauntered away, she began to vigorously wipe the part of the aircraft Herman touched.

And so, it went on until Herman finally stumbled upon the man responsible for the fine aircraft heading to South-East Vale.

"What's it to you, kid?"

" _Whoops._ " Herman tried to think up a convenient excuse.

"Look, I don't know what you're trying to pull, but-" The pilot then raised his index finger and looked away from the Faunus. The man twiddled with his helmet for a while, before looking back at Herman.

"Hop aboard." Herman blinked.

"Come on, I've got a few checks to do." Woozy, Herman climbed aboard and made his way to the cockpit. Immediately he regretted doubted the wisdom of his action. There was only one seat, and the rest of the space was taken up by complicated-looking computer equipment. Trying to look busy, he crouched over one of the boards.

"Other passengers are coming!" The pilot called out. Herman put on the helmet and peeked around the corner.

" _Oh dear._ "

It was them. Damn, what if Weiss recognized him? Herman immediately hunkered down in one corner of the cockpit, shielding himself from view. Meanwhile, the pilot and a very hyper, fast talking man approached.

"Iseverythingset?"

"Yes, we're good to go."

"Excellent." the huntsman turned around "LADIES! WE'REBEHINDSCHEDULE!"

They boarded but were too engaged in conversation to take a peek inside the cockpit. The pilot walked in and made himself comfortable.

"And off to the skies we go." he started the bullhead, began to whistle a catchy tune Herman and off they went.

"Raindrops keep falling on my head..." he hummed, and Herman tried not to join the pilot as he whistled his way through the best bits of the song.

Two agonizing hours later, they were finally over South-East Vale. Herman recognized the location as Mountain Glenn, the failed expansion project. An odd place for the White Fang to set up shop, what with all the Grimm infesting the place.

"Hey man, drop me off on that abandoned building over there." Herman pointed at a high rise next to them. What was once a sturdy brick building, inhabited by many was now a roofless, windowless ruin. Devoid of warmth, it was surrounded by many such buildings, each one a testament to the folly of humanity.

"You got a weapon?" he asked the pilot. The man flicked a switch from the control panel and a display case flipped open, mounted at the back of the aircraft. An automatic carbine and a pistol, ten magazines each. Herman grabbed the carbine and fifteen mags. He slotted one in and gave the weapon a once-over, familiarizing himself with the action of the carbine. It wasn't too different from the assault rifle carried by White Fang recruits, except this one had a more reliable air around it. The White Fang rifle required servicing after 1000 shots and was predisposed to jammed at inconvenient moments.

It would do just fine.

He leapt out and landed atop the building. Below, there was a massive gunfight going on, attracting the nearby Grimm. Herman was thankful for that, for it kept their attraction off him as he made his way down the building. The wind whistled past the broken walls, sending chills up his spine, and he could not see five feet in front of him even though it was daytime. The walls seemed to press inwards, prompting Herman to quickly descend countless flights of broken stairs.

He paused at the second floor once the gunshots subsisted. Peeking from the window, he saw the group performing a sweep, surrounded by dissipating bodies. The green haired huntsman appeared to be enamored with a puppy.

So far, so good. He'd stick close by for the time being.

There was a growling behind him, and Herman threw himself out of the charging creeps' way. He levelled his weapon at it but did not fire out of fear of revealing his position. He wasn't sure how those girls would react if they found their assailant lurking around them. By now Weiss would have told them all about last night's escapade.

The creep leapt upwards and scuttled across the ceiling, disappearing into a half-finished room. Herman cautiously advanced, halting at the doorway. The room was largely empty, the only exception being a half rotten wooden bed in the middle. A little torn teddy bear lay upon the ragged pillows, moss spreading from its ear.

The beast lay in wait, above the doorway. It pounced, latching around his back. It scrabbled at his face and bit at his throat. Herman flailed wildly before backing up in wall with full force. Again, and again he did so, but the beast continued to claw at his face, fruitlessly trying to breach his Aura. Then Herman ran full tilt at the window and leapt out, the beast still latched around him. During all this he had not loosened his grip around the carbine. They fell through the air, with Herman twisting around so he faced the blue sky while the beast upon his back cushioned his fall.

They landed hard upon the tarmac. Herman felt the air leave his lungs, despite the Grimm cushioning the fall. Its grip around his waist loosened, allowing Herman to roll off and face it. There was no time to be lost. It raised it claws in a feeble attempt at defense, but one blow from the carbine broke past it. Relentlessly, he bludgeoned the creature, each blow deforming its maw, sinking it deeper into its skull. Finally, it lay still and dissipated, leaving Herman to lie against the wall, panting heavily. He lay there a good long while before the sound of footsteps off in the distance caused him to resume his stalking, this time carefully checking each nook and cranny for Grimm before advancing.

There was no need for that, as the team ahead of him did a good job of attracting and eliminating the Grimm. Occasionally, they'd stop while the huntsman amongst them scanned the area, searching for something. He didn't know why, but that made him nervous.

The rest of the day was uneventful. The skies darkened, and the team headed into a nearby building to rest. Not wanting to stay out alone, Herman found some scaffolding round the back and began to scale the side of the building. Soon enough, he was at the top, and judging by their voices they were right below him. There was the crackling of wood burning. Herman shivered, feeling underdressed in his filthy white long-sleeved shirt. He wished he had his nice comfy Sherwani.

He scuffled over to the gap at the right, where the glow of the fire seeped out. A dog whined, and he heard the sniper-scythe girl comforting it.

"Don't worry, Zwei. Tomorrow will better." Her voice had a sweetness to it. Not the sickly honey-like sweetness of Hassan, or the deceptive sweetness of Rozinis. This was an untainted sweetness. Innocence.

Herman sighed. Every passing day brought the court date closer. Maybe he ought not to have come.

Tomorrow will be better. He almost snorted at that. Yeah, right.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ozpin smirked as he watched the security footage of the Bullhead docking area. He wasn't exactly sure what Herman Grauer was up to, but he was interested. Tapping the Chief Security Officer's shoulder, Ozpin gave an order.

"Activate the camera and tracker chipset in his scroll. As soon as he tries to compromise the trainee team's mission, activate the embedded suppression coils." Sipping from his mug, Ozpin wondered how Herman would endure this test of character.


	20. No Brakes

Chapter 19: No brakes

Herman gazed over the dead city. His vantage point gave him a good view, but so far, he was not having much luck in finding any signs of life, with the exception of the hunters below him.

Below him, a dog whined and scarpered off, much to the alarm of the sniper-scythe girl. She followed the puppy. Herman shifted uneasily, unsure of what to do.

He rose, electing to stalk the girl. Not out of any innate predatory instinct, but out of the belief that doing something was preferable to doing nothing at all. Though perhaps his instinct were kicking in too; a lack of hormone inhibitor pills led to his mind wandering onto other sorts of matters.

Once more he smacked himself, clearing his mind. He carefully mad his way down the scaffolding and around the corner of the building, where her voice was strongest. He leaned around the corner.

"Zwei! It's an abandoned city! You can do that anywhere." Even when exasperated, her voice retained that pure, sweet tone.

 _Private Grauer, you keep that up and soon you'll be having a seat over there_ , he mentally chastised himself.

Suddenly the girl tensed up, causing Herman to freeze. Her attention was directed elsewhere, so Herman leaned in further, wolf ears standing at attention. Off in the distance, he could make out faint conversation.

The girl readied her sniper, prompting Herman to press the butt of the carbine against his shoulder. Looks like there would be some action soon.

She ran off in the direction of the voices, though Herman was mildly amused to notice how her movements were less stealthy, albeit fast. The dog took off after her, and Herman followed it, making sure to keep downwind from the pup. One sniff, and it would be onto him.

The trio moved on until they came to a sudden halt. The puppy ran ahead to its master, allowing Herman to move up closer. He hunkered behind a green dumpster, observing the location.

Following the girl was the right choice. He observed the two White Fang members entering a derelict building. The girl readied her weapon and stepped forward.

Suddenly there was a shaking of the earth, and Herman watched in horror as the ground gave way beneath her. The poor girl never had a chance as the pavement seemed to swallow her up, leaving only the weapon and the now alarmed dog behind.

Shit, what should he do? Reluctant to return to face the hunting party, Herman moved up until the very edge of the hole. The dog noticed him and barked, but Herman did not care.

The hole was pitch black, with no way of telling how far down it went. That girl could be seriously injured, or worse. Each passing second was agonizing, compounded when the barking dog ran back, presumably to alert the rest.

Herman picked up the sniper rifle and looked at his carbine. He aimed down the scope. It just didn't feel right to him.

Nah, sniper rifles were not really his style. He left it where it lay and grabbed the carbine. His ears perked up at the sound of voices and loud footsteps.

Should he stay and face the bullets? Or take the jump and risk broken bones?

Well, he didn't have an Aura for nothing. Anyway, bones could heal.

Gritting his teeth, he closed his eyes and focused his Aura before leaping down into the abyss.

He landed on his feet, letting out a gasp at the sudden shock of pain that ran up his ankles, but he could still move. Well, at the very least nothing was broken. Quickly he surveyed the surrounding area. It was a dark, disused room with two doors; one on the left and the other on the right.

The one on the left was shut, so he shuffled over to the right, which was left ajar. There was sound of whistling and footsteps rapidly approaching. Herman hid behind the door as a guard walked right past him.

"Raindrops keep falling on my head..." he hummed before Herman smashed him around the head with the carbine. Stunned, the guard fell but Herman caught him, not wanting to alert the others by the sound. Gently setting him by the door, Herman proceeded.

What he saw took his breath away. An underground base, like the one in Atlas. But the Atlas Base was consisted of sprawling passageways and rooms carved into the rock beneath the surface, while this was wide open and stocked to the roof with supplies. Forklifts were everywhere, with groups of two and three Fang members spotted about. Down one passage, he saw the helpless girl being carried towards the train tracks at the very end.

Sneaking about the shadows would not help, for the Faunus had senses as keen as his. To his left he saw a walkway leading down a hall. He followed that path, only to find himself face to face with a technician. The man gulped nervously, whiskers twitching. Herman put on his best predatory grin, unnerving the Faunus further. This one was no fighter.

"Please don't hurt me!" He squeaked when Herman aimed the carbine at him.

"Keep your voice down, else I'll put a bullet through your throat." That shut him up.

"Where is the central power at?" Herman pushed the carbine against the Faunus's throat.

"Hey! What are you doing here!" A voice called from down the hallway. Herman whipped around to see two more White Fang members. Both had axes.

Going silent was no longer an option. He fired at them, dropping both of them where they stood. They cried out in pain, clutching their arms and legs. If the gunshots had not alerted the base, their cries certainly had.

Herman whipped around to see the technician scurry away on all fours, his scabby grey tail stuck up in the air behind him. On the end of the hallway, more thugs showed up.

Herman advanced, firing semi-automatic bursts. From below, he was taking more gunfire, prompting him to take cover. More Faunus appeared on the opposite end of the walkway.

Something landed between his legs, and he knew exactly what that something was. He leapt over the side just as the grenade exploded, shattering the crate and setting off the Dust within. The walkway creaked and groaned.

Herman was falling, with shots whizzing past him. He landed upon an unfortunate White Fang member, causing the fellow to collapse and drop his weapon. Losing no time, Herman grabbed him and held his body between him and the bullets as he backed up against the wall. One hand gripped his captive round the neck, the other aimed the carbine over said captive's shoulder, firing off bursts.

The sight of their captured comrade prompted a few to stop firing, with the bursts from the carbine encouraging the rest to take cover. Damn, he was up against a wall, and had no way out.

There was an explosion in the distance, followed by more gunfire. Immediately there was a wild stampede of masked White Fang members, and had Herman not pressed up against the wall he would have been trampled. Gibbering and squealing, they ran towards the train on the far end. The walkway creaked once more, and metal sheets began fall, accompanied by those who stood upon the walkway. One member landed right on another, knocking the two out, and Herman had to shove his captive away and roll out of the way of a large part of the collapsing walkway.

The smoke cleared, and Herman's heart rose to his throat.

The hunting party had arrived. Well, time to leave. He turned and ran with the rest, firing shots in the air to encourage those who tried to stop and fight.

Immediately, a huge force tackled him and he went flying into one of the storage racks. Winded, he kicked off his assailant and rose, carbine ready. What he heard and saw next made him drop his weapon.

"H-Herman?"

Heidi rose, brushing her midnight-black hair out of her eyes. Unlike the rest of the White Fang members, she was attired differently.

She wore a full set of armor which resembled a gladiator from the history books. The entire set was a light blue with hints of white, and from the back of her visored helmet a pure white plume projected out, drooping over at the back of her cuirass. Beneath the armor she wore a belted black leather skirt. Yet behind the helmet, Herman could see a certain weariness on Heidi's face.

"Cat still got your tongue?" she asked, a hint of a smile playing upon her lips.

"Nice set of armor you got." Herman wasn't sure of what else to say. The familiar tingling in his skull was back.

Then, in a flash she had two swords at his throat. Both were symmetrical long curved blades, like a cross of longsword and scimitar. Oddly enough, there were two small holes in the flat, one on the edge of each sword.

"Why did you leave us?" She said, hurt evident in her voice. Herman narrowed his eyes. The hint of a smile had left her lips.

"Do you really believe the White Fang is working for our betterment? That our methods are right?" Anger filled Herman's tone.

"Shut up. You're a traitor." She pressed the steel closer to his neck, but was repulsed by his Aura.

"If that's how you see me, I'm hurt. I thought we were friends." Herman replied evenly.

"We were. But don't you see what Supreme Commander Adam-"

"Last I checked, Sienna Khan was the leader of the Fang, Adam her subordinate. Unless something else has happened?" Herman was slightly confused now.

"Sienna's losing her touch. It's only a matter of time she steps down, and Adam will lead us to a glorious future." She spoke with utmost conviction.

"You seem to know quite a bit about the politics of our organization." Herman said, trying to put her at ease, before sighing and closing his eyes as the cold blades tightened about his neck.

"Do it, then."

The cold metal shook, scraping against his skin. He opened his eyes, only to see tears trickling from her apple-green eyes. This close, he could see bags beneath them, and a general reddish tinge about the sclera. Her face had taken a hazy look, her eyes staring a thousand miles into the distance. He knew that look; he had seen it many times while washing his face in ponds and lakes.

"I was loyal, too. I was training to be one of their best operatives; yet I'm here. Why do you think that is?"

"Shut up!" Heidi sobbed. "I know you wouldn't leave without any reason, and I too….I've done too much for them."

"I'm no angel either. Remember the POWs we captured? The heist? The camp?"

Now Heidi's arms were hanging loosely by her sides as she weakly clutched the handles of the blades.

"Fear begets hatred. Hatred begets violence. Violence begets violence. The cycle continues. No-one wins if everyone dies in the end. That's why you've got to come with me." He remembered how Heidi told him about the organization's social work, their positive aspects. At that moment, Herman realized the problem was not the Fang, but the senior leadership infecting the organization. And they would have to go.

"Together, we can take out those responsible for the suffering. Otherwise, we'll die alone." Herman tried desperately to convince his only friend.

She looked at him and wiped her eyes.

"Okay." and offered her hand.

It didn't matter that they were surrounded by potential hostiles or Grimm, nor his court date, nor what Ozpin would say when he got back. That one word swept his worries to the wind, filled his heart until it got dangerously close to bursting.

He took her hand and pulled her up.

"Let's give 'em hell." She grinned, lighting up the darkness. Herman looked around and saw the hunting party approaching.

"But first, let's get out of their way."

"Friends of yours?"

"Nope. But we'll see about that. Follow me." They weaved between the cargo racks, evading the occasional shot directed their way.

"What's with the train?" Herman asked.

"Uh...well." Heidi was reluctant to answer

"Well?"

"Supplies, robots, the works." Robots? This was new.

"Atlesian Paladins." She explained. Herman grimaced. Those things would take some firepower to take down.

He held up his hand. They were nearing the train now, and Herman could see an orange haired man in a top hat holding the sniper-scythe girl hostage with his cane. However, the rush of retreating White Fang members also caused him to fall back, allowing the hostage to get up.

"Follow." Herman commanded and they rushed past the girl and into the darkness of the tunnel. The enemy was too busy clambering into rail cars and bolting down equipment to notice them, though occasionally, Herman would have to take cover and return fire. A burly Fang member leapt from the train, descending with his axe. Heidi sprang into action, sheathing her swords and kicking upwards. Her armored heel connected with his stomach, breaking the assailant's attack and making his eyes bulge out dangerously. Winded, the Faunus fell. He tried to get up, but Heidi had her blades round his neck.

"Heidi, stop!" Herman cried out in alarm, raising his arm as he did so. She looked at him, puzzled.

"Try not to kill the low-level grunts." She nodded and smacked the Faunus over the head with the hilt of her sword, knocking him out. "We should try our best to incapacitate, but-"

"I gotcha." Heidi interrupted as she jerked her elbow backwards, connecting it with the nose of another WF trooper, who collapsed like a sack of potatoes.

"Let's get aboard, try to damage as much equipment as we can." She suggested. Herman climbed aboard and helped Heidi up, swinging round to parry another Faunus, who had attacked him with his sword.

Herman kicked the attacker's knee, dropping him and bashing him over the head with the carbine. They proceeded down the carriage, eliminating enemies along the way, for the basic grunts of the Fang were no match for both of them.

Finally, they reached a locked door at the far end. Inside a weary, resigned voice could be heard.

"I did not put this bomb here. I did not, It's bullshit, It's not true. I did not." Herman knew that voice. Seems like today would be full of surprises. He kicked down the door and advanced, carbine ready.

Beckendorf, clad in the standard White Fang attire turned to face them in all his antlered glory. Behind him another recruit cowered in fear upon their arrival, but Beckendorf didn't seem bothered at all.

"Oh, hai Herman." he said nonchalantly. But Herman's attention was fixed on the bomb in the middle of the compartment.

"Bombs?" He looked at Heidi. She shrugged.

"I know, right? They are all over the train. So damn annoying. And on top of that, they locked me in here. ME! Oh, when I meet that little heterochromic girl I'll give her a talking to..." Herman had no idea what Beckendorf was rambling on about.

"Let's just head out of here." he suggested, cutting off Beckendorf's rant.

"I guess. Lemme just get my clipboard." The reindeer began to rummage around. The nervous-looking aide, however quaked in fear. Then he stood up and tapped Beckendorf's arm.

"What is it?" He asked, annoyed.

"Sir...haven't you noticed? It's the traitor!" the aide squealed nervously. Beckendorf just looked at him, exasperated.

"Do you think I give a damn? After all the shit the Fang has put me through?" He yelled back, making the aide cringe and cower further.

"Beckendorf...what did they put you through?" Herman asked. Beckendorf faced him and sighed.

"You'd think being in the Supply Corps is an easy job, one those on the frontline lust for. But I'll be damned if it isn't anything but sheer buggery every day. The fucking commissars sniffing up your ass-and I DO NOT mean that metaphorically-the bloody paperwork one has to file every day, and the fact that every goddamn time you want something done, you've got to move heaven and earth for it. Sometimes I think of killing myself, because my life is just so...I don't know, dreary." Beckendorf turned back to the crate he was rummaging about in, pulled out a quiver full of arrows and tossed it at Heidi, who caught it.

"Yeah, these are the ones you requested. They are also color-coded by dust type." She gratefully slung them over her back. Herman was deep in thought. If Beckendorf was as fed up as he claimed, then he too could come along.

"Hey Beckendorf? Why don't you come along with me?" Beckendorf slowly turned to face Herman, his eyes glinting. There was a long silence.

"You want me to renounce my allegiance, earn the enduring hatred of every Fang member and leave my cushy, albeit boring job?" Beckendorf said, slowly. Herman nodded.

"Ahhh, fuck it. Life is short." Beckendorf tossed the clipboard aside and grabbed a pistol from the munitions crate. This treachery was too much for the aide, who fainted.

"But first." Beckendorf said, pulling on his Grimm mask, "I sure as hell am not going to let them I.D. me easily." Before Herman could react, Beckendorf grabbed the aide and draped him over his shoulder.

"I kind of like this guy, so I'll be taking him along." The train began to rumble along the tracks, and the bomb began to beep. Anxious to get out, Herman stumbled after Beckendorf, Heidi in tow. Above them they could make out a heavy _thunk, thunk, thunk_ as if some giant was lumbering along the roof of the carriage.

"Herman, be a dear chap and open up that hatch over there and take a peek outside." Beckendorf calmly said even as the familiar roaring of guns came from the top. Herman ascended the ladder and peeked his head out.

In front of him stood the huge white frame of an Atlesian Paladin, weapons ready and trained on him. Suddenly, a red-yellow projectile smashed into its chest piece, keeling the massive mech over. Instead, in its place a puppy stood. Behind it, Herman could see more Paladins as well as multiple Fang members crawling out of the hatches. He looked back, and saw that very sniper-scythe girl along with the fast-talking, green haired huntsman. He really needed to come up with better names for them.

Bullets plinked on the metal around him, encouraging Herman to duck below.

"Well?" Heidi asked.

"We've got White Fang soldiers ahead of us, a couple of hunters who may or may not be friendly behind us." he responded. There was a hammering on the supply carriage door, prompting them to move into cover. Herman and Beckendorf trained their weapons on the door, while Heidi smacked the hilts of her swords together. They clicked as the came together, and a targeting optic flicked out from the side of the conjoined hilt. Heidi slipped a high-tensile bowstring from the quiver and hurriedly began to tie it through the two holes. The door broke down, and four heavily armored troops barged in. They charged, firing their shotguns. Beckendorf was suppressed, the aide slumped next to him. Herman was able to take down one by aiming at an exposed point at knee. If only he had Nihil, it would be so much easier.

Over the din of gunfire, Beckendorf yelled at Herman.

"Is it just me, or has your accuracy has gone down?" This struck Herman as an odd thing to say in a gunfight.

"What do you mean?" he yelled back.

"On the few missions we did together, you always aimed to kill!" Herman grimaced and leaned out of cover to fire off a few rounds at a soldier who was trying to help his wounded comrade back to cover. Herman emptied the entire clip, and froze in shock when the enemy Faunus grabbed his chest and fell down, unmoving. Did he just penetrate the armor and kill the soldier? Sure, looked like it.

"Yeah! That's the Private Grauer I know!" Beckendorf yelled in encouragement. But Herman felt that old familiar rottenness. He had promised Ozpin not to kill, yet he did so anyway. 12-Gauge dust rounds chipped away at his cover, but he lay there frozen.

Was killing all he was good at? Who was he to stop other people, if he couldn't stop himself?

"Hush, boys." Heidi said, slotting an arrow into her bow. She rose and fired at the third soldier, whose shoulder was exposed. The arrow struck, and unleashed a shockwave of electricity. The two remaining soldiers were jilted out of cover, and they wobbled around before collapsing on the floor, spasming.

Behind them, Heidi and Herman could hear more footsteps. She looked at him for askance.

"That would most presumably be the hunting party." He said.

"The blokes who may or may not be friends?" Beckendorf asked. Herman nodded.

"Then I suppose we ought to move up. But first, chuck that bomb out." Beckendorf responded. Herman got up and dragged the bomb back. Setting aside the carbine, he lifted the heavy payload and tossed it out of the moving carriage. As he did so, Herman could see that the Grimm were now pursuing them as well. The bomb bounced along the tracks before exploding, obliterating some of the Grimm as well as causing the carriages to sway about dangerously. Herman fell forward, but was able to grab a handle by the carriage door. Heidi sprang to the rescue and yanked him back in.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

The door behind them was kicked open, and in came Blondie, the Cat Faunus and Weiss Schnee. Upon spotting the trio, they raised their weapons. Beckendorf and Heid did so too.

"Wait!" Herman sprang between them. Both parties slightly lowered their weapons, but only slightly. Facing the hunting party, Herman spoke quickly before they decided to get any ideas.

"We're not the enemy; pass and leave us be." Even as the words came out of his mouth, they sounded lame.

"Why should we trust you?" Blondie asked, raising her shotgun gauntlets.

"You're right. You shouldn't. But fighting us is just a waste of time, which you can't afford. There are bombs on this train. Beckendorf, you know where this is heading?" he asked, hoping Beckendorf would answer. He paused a bit, before speaking.

"The tracks lead to Vale." Herman had what he needed to convince them.

"So, are you going to waste time fighting us? Or do something about those bombs? Clock's ticking. Vale's getting closer. " He had them now.

"Fine." The Blondie spoke, and the entourage passed them by. But as Blondie passed Herman, she grasped him firmly by the arm and whispered into his ear.

"This isn't over. I'll be keeping an eye on you." Herman responded with a stony glare.

She hurried off, leaving them alone.

"We had best get topside. I feel like we would not want to be down here when shit hits the fan." They nodded, and up the ladder the trio went. Herman was first up, and now he saw they were behind the sniper-scythe girl and the huntsman.

Lying prone, he crawled forth and fired bursts at the many assailants that charged. Beckendorf followed suit with his pistol, and Heidi dropped to a knee while loosing an explosive arrow at the Atlesian Paladin at the far end. It stumbled, but regained its footing. Fortunately, a few rockets and a slew of explosive arrows were enough to turn it into fiery chunks of metal.

Herman crawled forward, firing as he moved. The huntsman turned to face him, his rocket launcher morphing into a flamethrower. And it was pointed at him.

"Friendorfoe?" he jabbered.

"What?" asked Herman, dumbfounded.

"Friend, or foe." Even when slowing down his speech, the huntsman talked fast.

"Friend." That satisfied him; the weapon now switched to a thermos from which the huntsman took a swig. Herman wondered how he kept the Dust, brass (for the rockets) and the liquid separate.

The gunfire snapped him back to reality, and he and his squad mates laid down suppressive fire while the sniper-scythe girl charged.

Slowly but surely, they worked their way up the carriage. However, halfway through, there were a series of explosions from below, rupturing the carriages. This time the train jumped off the tracks, and Herman felt quite giddy. Heidi lost her footing and slipped, but Herman grabbed her hand. They skidded across the roof, but Beckendorf grabbed Herman's hand and clung for dear life onto the side of the carriage.

The train was skidding now, bucking about over sections of damaged track. Abruptly, Herman found himself flying forward along with Heidi, Beckendorf, the sniper-scythe girl and the huntsman.

The last thing he heard before blacking out was the screeching of devastated metal, the crunching of concrete, and the victorious roaring of the Grimm.


	21. Breach

Chapter 20: Breach

Fortunately, Herman was stunned only momentarily, and soon he came to his senses.

Though he wished that he hadn't.

The thick choking dust, the intense heat generated by burning ammunition, the roars of Grimm and the screaming of civilians. It was all too familiar to him.

 _Oh no, please no, please no, I didn't do it this time, it wasn't me._

Fat chance anyone would believe that. He had left Academy premises, appeared in South East Vale at a WF hideout, was sighted aboard said train in the company of other criminals. The rabbit hole had not only gotten deeper, but a lid had been dragged over it.

Herman may as well have stayed in his shell-shocked state if Beckendorf hadn't slapped him. Herman looked at him blearily.

"Get up, damn it. They're everywhere!" Beckendorf's mask was off, and Herman noted the rivulets of sweat that ran down the lines and depressions in in Beckendorf's weathered face. The reindeer slammed something into Herman's hands before firing at a charging Beowulf. The bullets found their mark and sent the beast skidding across the pavement, dissipating as it did so.

Herman looked at Beckendorf's 'gift'. A semiautomatic shotgun, with the WF insignia stamped onto the barrel. Checking the clip, he saw that he had eight shells, dust type unknown. Someone-a man was screaming behind him. Herman whipped around to see two more Beowolves chasing a man, and they were steadily gaining on him.

Striding forth, Herman took aim and fired. The first shot smacked the lead Grimm in the jaw. The shell crackled with electricity and sent the Beowulf reeling into its companion. Herman discharged two more into the pair, one for each. They dissipated.

Two Grimm down, five shells left. Fortunately, he wasn't fighting alone. The hunting party from earlier was fighting tooth and nail, sweeping down hordes of Grimm. To his east, more hunters had arrived, their leader sweeping the streets with a minigun.

Herman wished he had a minigun, with plenty bullets to spare for the Grimm. Or better yet, he wished he had Nihil. Well, wishful thinking wasn't going to get him anywhere. He aimed at the King Taijitsu and fired, but against that massive beast his newly acquired peashooter was doing bugger-all. It just whipped its head around and glared at him, before taking fire from the hunters. They had it handled.

An Ursa growled, unleashing a flurry of swipes. The first caught him off guard, smacking him into the ground. The second bashed into his chest. The third never came. Herman got up, winded, but noted with satisfaction that an arrow was stuck into the Ursa's chest, spreading frost. The armored frame of Heidi Azura leapt into view, decapacitating the beast with her joint blades.

"Why'd you let your guard down?" Heidi asked as she nocked another arrow, ready for the Grimm. Herman moved closer so that they were back-to-back, surveying the surrounding area. There were still plenty of Grimm left.

"Have you seen Beckendorf? He was right by my side a moment ago." Herman asked, anxiously looking about.

"You're welcome." Heidi grumbled as she fired off a couple of arrows at some creeps.

Herman had sighted Beckendorf. Unfortunately, he seemed to be cornered by an Alpha Beowolf. To distract the beast, Herman pumped the shotgun and fired two rounds at it. One missed, smacking into the brick wall next to it while the second hit its spine. The beast roared in pain and whipped around, ready to face the impertinent huntsman.

"Nice work, Herman. Lure that towards us." Heidi said in a sarcastic tone. It charged, and Herman readied himself as Heidi nocked three arrows.

Jet engines roared, prompting all hunters present to look up at their saviors. The Atlesian Army had arrived, dropping robots off into the combat zone while their attack craft opened fire. Herman noticed this time round there seemed to be more robots than men. Made sense. A robot knows no fear, does not hesitate, never cries out if injured so that its comrades may be demoralized when more Grimm arrived. Perfect killing machines.

"Yay! We're saved!" Everyone cried out.

"Oh, fuck." Herman, Heidi and Beckendorf said collectively.

The Atlesian Knights went about their task efficiently, wiping out all the Grimm. Aided by the hunters, the Breach was over in a matter of minutes. Herman reached Beckendorf in a matter of seconds and urgently whispered to him.

"Let's get out of here. You're still in White Fang threads, and I don't think I'm off their database." Beckendorf nodded, and the trio snuck into a nearby alleyway. Graffiti coated the walls to the extent the original color was not visible. They neared the end of the long cold alleyway. Not slowing down, Herman swung round only to find himself face to face with eight Atlesian Knights.

"We're in for it now." Heidi whispered. Herman felt like his throat had dangerously constricted.

"HERMAN GRAUER. SURRENDER." The fact that this unfeeling, faceless automaton knew his name was enough to make Herman sick. Two human soldiers also joined the group, weapons ready.

"YOU ARE WANTED FOR TERRORIST ACTIVITIES. RESISTANCE IS FUTILE."

"Drop the weapon." One of the soldiers ordered. Herman looked back at his friends. They had not been asked to surrender, so Herman mouthed one command.

Go.

He dropped the shotgun and sank to his knees, putting his hands behind his head as he did so. Beckendorf and Heidi edged away, but they too were noticed by the human soldiers.

"You two! Get down on the ground!" one called out.

"What for?" came Heidi's voice. Herman grimaced.

"Down on the ground NOW!" Heidi and Beckendorf turned to run, but now Atlesian soldiers were rushing down the alleyway and the street south of them. Outnumbered, with nowhere to run, they too surrendered. Seized in their vice-like grip, Herman could only glumly watch as they were escorted towards a transport ship. It was no use to argue with these grunts. Around them, Herman could feel the prickly gazes of the city folk and assorted hunters. He lowered his eyes.

Shackled, they were tossed into the transport. In front of them was the orange haired fellow, and on each side, they had Atlesian robots standing guard.

"Why hello, Wolfie. Looks like they got you too." said the orange haired guy. Herman was strongly reminded of a pumpkin.

"Who the hell are you, pumpkin?" Herman asked. The pumpkin looked offended.

"Why, haven't these two-" he gestured to Beckendorf and Heidi "-told you? In that case, let me introduce myself. Torchwick, Roman Torchwick. Master thief." Roman said rather pompously.

"You're the guy who supplied Alpha Pack with all those weapons?" Herman asked. Torchwick raised a finger to his lips.

"Always keep your clientele a secret, Wolfie. But yeah, I did. Nice bunch to do business with. What happened to the lot?"

"Dead."

"Eh, it happens." Then Torchwick and Herman both got smacked on the head by the Atlesian Knights.

"SILENCE."

There wasn't any conversation after that. The transport docked at the command ship and the prisoners were shuffled to their respective cells. There was just about enough room to sit in one, and tiny holes on top of the door let some air and light in.

Hours passed. Herman was terribly bored. He might have even dozed off for a bit. Perhaps this was the new Atlesian torture technique, to bore an inmate to the extent that he had no will to resist when questions were asked. Around midday (guessing by the light intensity) he got a visitor, though it was not the visitor he wanted.

The door slid open to reveal General James Ironwood, with the nastiest expression one could imagine on his face. For a moment the General stepped back, as if repulsed before advancing into the small compartment, his frame blocking out the light and thus casting an ominous shadow over his face. His eyes glinted dangerously.

"Talk."

Herman wasn't sure what there was to talk about. He yawned. The itch on the back of his ear was really killing him, but his hands were shackled for so long he didn't even know if he had hands any more.

"How are the wife and kids?" he asked innocently.

The blow was unexpected; it made his vision blurry and his jaw began to ache. Was this payback, ordered by some cosmic power for beating Weiss?

"10:30 a.m. you were seen exiting the library. By 11:00 a.m. you had vanished off Academy grounds. A day passes and there is no sight of you. The next day, you are sighted by team RWBY in the White Fang hideout. Soon after there is a series of explosions, followed by an influx of Grimm. And you are in the thick of it. Need I say more?"

"It wasn't me." This innocuous reply seemed to anger the general. He hit Herman with another right hook, making the ache in his jaw worse.

"I've got a lot worse where that came from. Confess." Herman was starting to really dislike the General. Herman shut his eyes and tried to focus on the tingling in his skull. But there was nothing but a faint spark. His head hurt like hell, and Herman was tired. He just couldn't muster up the strength to do whatever he could do.

"Beating me to a pulp isn't going to get you the answers you want. But I can tell you this; it wasn't me, nor was it my friends." Herman said tiredly, not liking the gleam in Ironwood's eyes.

"Your friends, eh? Perhaps they would be more likely to talk. Unless, of course you would prefer to spare them that fate." Ironwood said deviously. Herman felt rage flood through his body.

"You fucking bastard of a pox-ridden whore." Herman had enough strength to glare back at the fucking bastard of a General. You dare hurt them, and I'll rend you limb from limb." His voice was growing louder. "I'LL KILL EVERY MOTHERFUCKER ON THIS SHIP!" he screamed. His eyes began to burn, and momentarily the world turned blue-gray, but only momentarily. Exhaustion and boredom had caught up to him. The general stepped out of the compartment, the doors slid shut and the world turned back to normal.

"Bravo, Wolfie." came a muffled voice from the compartment next to him. Herman slumped over in defeat.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Around nighttime, Herman woke to sounds of approaching footsteps.

"Make it quick, Polluck. Those damn Knights could be approaching any minute now." a voice came.

"Twenty minutes." Intoned another.

"You got the duplicate key?" asked the man named Polluck.

"Yeah, yeah." was the reply.

"Good. Now in which one is that Faunus sonofabitch hiding?" Herman felt the hairs on the back of his neck and wolf-ears prickle as the footsteps got louder. The door slid open to reveal three men, Atlas soldiers in undress; black t-shirts, white combat pants and combat boots. The short, stocky one-stepped in.

"Hey there, doggy" he snarled before grabbing one of Herman's wolf ears and sharply pulling them. Herman yelped in pain.

"You whine like that and I'll slit your filthy guts open." he threatened as he slid his scroll into the scanner, opening Herman's shackles. Herman was jerked out of the cell by his ear, being half dragged and half carried. If his arms and legs were not being attacked by pins and needles maybe he would have fared better against them. Such was not the case; Herman was ignomiously dragged along.

"Fifteen minutes." The time-keeper intoned.

"Right." said the short, stocky fellow while his other companion, a lanky fellow who had the duplicate keys was anxiously looking about. "We'll grab the rope and drag this animal to the forest. Hang him from a tree and leave the rest to the Grimm."

"What the fuck do you want!" Herman spat. The short, stocky one glared at him with venom in his hazel eyes.

"Didn't I tell you to keep your filthy maw shut?" He pulled out a combat knife and brought it close to Herman's cheek.

"Not here! You said outside!" the lanky fellow protested.

"Ten minutes." intoned the time-keeper. That made the short, stocky one pause.

"Yeah, we'll lynch this no-good, murderin', rapin' animal outside." and they began to drag Herman along by his wolf-ears. He tried not to cry out at the pain, but occasionally a gasp would escape his lips.

Murdering? Raping? What the fuck were they on about? But now was not the time to ask; he had to get loose, somehow.

 _Ah, but you are a murderer, aren't you?_ asked a nasty voice from within. Herman immediately quashed it like a bug, but it still kept skittering around in him.

"Ten minutes." the companion announced.

"We're almost out." said the lanky fellow, but they were halted by the sound of yet more footsteps. Strange, how in emptiness sounds are amplified by a thousand. The heavy footfalls were coming in their direction.

"I thought you bribed the two guards to not bother us." hissed the lanky one.

"I did." the short stocky one hissed back.

"It can't be the Knight patrols-I timed them." the time keeper said.

The exit door slid open, and a humongous Atlesian soldier stepped in. To liken his legs and arms to tree trunks and his chest to an Ursa's (if not an Ursa Major's) would not be inaccurate. Unlike the other soldiers' present, he was in full combat attire.

"Wha' are you lot doin' with the prisoner?" he rumbled. Herman could feel the short, stocky one's hands slightly unclench.

"Stay out of this, Oliva."

"Wha' I see is three no-good bastids ready to lynch a Faunus. I aint lettin' that happen."

"This fucker is the terrorist who went and blasted a bomb in that Atlesian Garrison, and here as well. Grimm followed, killing the survivors. You going to stick up for a low-life?" The short stocky one had dragged Herman in front of him, forced the Faunus to his knees and pressed the cold metal against Herman's neck.

"Terrorist or no terrorist, the law ain't in your hands. Don't take it into your own hands either." Oliva raised his assault rifle.

"Fuck you, you big dumb bastar-" There was gunfire, and the short, stock one's blood splattered all over Herman. He felt the hand round his neck and ear loosen for good, and heard the knife clatter to the ground.

"Have I got to execute another brother-in-arms? You two piss off now." Oliva said.

The lanky one and the time-keeper ran off. Herman rose to his feet.

"You'll get in trouble for helping me. But I thank you anyway." he said.

"I've got a recorder in my helmet." said Oliva,"So we're good."

"Why'd you help me?" Herman asked.

"No man takes the law into his own hands."

"You sure did. On top of that you killed one of your own. Isn't that an offense?"

"I always wanted to shoot that asshole ever since what happened with our sergeant. Anyhow, he aint dead, just hurt real bad. The military court will take care of the rest. Isn't that right, Polluck?"

Polluck opened his eyes and groaned. The shots had merely clipped his shoulder, but he had bled quite a bit.

The Atlesian Knight patrol finally arrived. As per protocol, Polluck was taken to the med bay, while Herman and Oliva were whisked off to the General's office.

For the second time that day, Herman faced Ironwood. Only this time he was sitting freely in a rather plush chair, in a rather warm room.

"Is there ever a day that goes by without you getting mixed up in something?" Ironwood asked wearily. Herman shook his head.

"Of course not." There was a long, awkward silence.

"Well, seeing as we've got Corporal Oliva's helmet camera as well as the ship security footage, this time you're innocent. Also, I had a nice chat with your friends." Ironwood raised his hand when he saw Herman tense up. "They were a lot less stubborn than you, so I can assure you that things didn't get physical."

Herman wasn't sure of what to say. Earlier in the day, the General was ready to mash Herman and his friends to a pulp.

Unless...

Ozpin must've talked to him, told him to lay off the beatings. Maybe.

"So, I had a talk with Ozpin..." Hallelujah. Herman lost interest in the conversation as he massaged his arms and legs. The sensation of pins and needles was subsiding now.

"Are you listening?" The general asked, jerking Herman back into the conversation.

"Well...how about we go over everything again, in case I didn't understand." was all Herman could say. Ironwood sighed and facepalmed.

"Long story short; you and your friends can head back to Beacon, where questioning will resume." he sighed, again. Herman nodded in assent.

"What now, sir?"

"Just get the hell off my ship."

"With pleasure, sir."


	22. Vytal Festival

Chapter 20: Vytal Festival

Herman exited the General's quarters. Oliva was waiting for him outside.

"General's orders are ta escort you out o' the ship." Herman nodded. Without the helmet, Herman could make out his facial features much more clearly. Oliva had a light-green buzzcut adorning his craggy face. His deep-set green eyes glistened in the dark. Silently, they proceeded to walk through the ship.

"Why'd you save me, if you know who I am?" Herman finally broke the silence.

"As I said before, no man takes the law into his own hands."

"That can't be the sole reason."

"Yer right. It ain't. I live by my daddy's philo...philoso...style o' thinkin': 'Extend compassion to the enemy, but don't let it get in the way of wha' needs doin'." Oliva rumbled.

"So, you saved me out of compassion?"

"Do the questions never stop with you?" Oliva grumpily countered. "Yarp, ye could say it was compassion. But if I were to face you on the battlefield tomorrow I would no' have the slightest objection to blastin' ye in the face."

"Uhh...good to know?" Herman mused upon this before they halted at the exit.

"Right-o. I'll be leavin' now." They shook hands, and Herman stepped through the sliding door.

Immediately, he was tackled to the asphalt by some unseen force. Stars exploded in his head. Dimly, he was aware of something latched round his body. As his vision cleared, he it was Heidi who had tackled him and was now hugging him, while Beckendorf stood back, sheepishly grinning.

Heidi got up, but as her eyes roved over Herman her smile of delight was steadily shifted into a frown of revulsion.

"What's wrong?" Herman asked.

"Now that we're not in a life or death situation, I can look upon you without the fear of Grimm showing up and mauling everyone or being shot in the back. And I can safely say...you look awful."

"How bad? Like on a scale out of 10?"

"Twelve." Beckendorf said, causing Heidi to erupt in laughter.

"You smell pretty terrible too." She said, in between giggles. Well, she was right. During all his travails, he had last gotten a decent clean-up at Khel. Boy, that was a long time ago.

"Heidi, I know you're really happy to see me, but could you get off? The armor is pretty heavy." She clapped her hands round her mouth in mock distress but consented to get off him. Herman got up and dusted himself off before looking questioningly at his friends.

"Well, Ozpin said you knew the way." Beckendorf said. Herman nodded and motioned at the pair to follow.

"Ozpin talked to you?"

"Well, yeah. I don't know, but there is something about that man that just compels you to tell the truth." Heidi said.

"Guy was actually pretty nice. Didn't ask what we were doing with the White Fang, just asked us general questions about our lives, where we lived, our connection to you." Beckendorf followed up. "I asked him if he wasn't the slightest bit concerned of who we were, and he just looks at me with utter seriousness and says 'No'. What a man!" Beckendorf was getting dangerously close to gushing.

"I have a feeling that the time for questioning is close. Anyway, I'm glad none of you had a run-in with General Ironwood."

"We did."

"You did!? That bastard... did he do anything to you?" Herman was starting to get angry again. His friends grew wary upon noticing the rage.

"N-no. As much as we hated it, we didn't resist his questions, then Ozpin came along. So, no waterboarding, no electrocution, no magic-truth serum." Heidi hurriedly said, noting with relief that the stress lines on Herman's face had relaxed somewhat.

They arrived at Herman's cell/room. Now there was one bed and two roll-up mattresses, along with three chairs, a small table and a whole lot of Law books stacked upon it.

 _So, I can't run away_ , Herman glumly thought.

"First, you take a shower." Heidi grabbed Herman by the arm and propelled him towards a door at the rear of the room, left to the barred window. Herman was surprised at that. He couldn't recall noticing it during his original incarceration.

 _Perhaps it was because you were too busy moping around_ , said the nasty little voice. It had an unpleasant familiarity to it, prompting Herman to quash it again.

The dead would stay dead in their crypts for they had no place in his life anymore.

Shoved in the bathroom, Herman finally managed to get a good look at himself in the mirror. To say he looked awful was an understatement. His grey hair was all over the place, his cerulean blue eyes had dark hollows beneath them, his cheeks were sunken and his face had an overall gaunt look to it. He was also beginning-or rather was in the middle stages of-growing a beard. Stripping down, he noticed the many cuts, nicks, bruises and scars that adorned his body. He really never noticed his injuries after a fight, for his Aura always helped him heal up the worst of it.

Well, at least he had those muscles, if that was any consolation.

One shower (cold water only) and a shave later, he was sitting with his friends at the table.

"Nice shave, bro." Beckendorf appraised the three or four razor-induced nicks and cuts on Herman's jaws, prompting Herman to smack his hand away.

"But you ought to do something about your hair. The way those locks hang over your face... you look feral." Heidi commented.

"Well, what happened at the White Fang base while I was gone?" Herman asked.

"For starters, your name got added to the list of deserters. A lot of guys were kinda pissed. 'Private Grauer? Not that guy, he was okay.' But as time went on we just had to accept the fact that you were our number eight or twelve enemy."

"Why so low? Who's the lucky no.1?" upon asking this question Beckendorf and Heidi looked at each other nervously.

"Even we don't know. Supposedly that's reserved for the top assassins. By the way, they managed to bring in the remains of the Alpha Pack sniper from that mission (At this Herman winced). Horrible. Something had ripped his arm clean off. I dunno what they did with him, though. I got assigned to the Supply Corps, and that day onwards I've been trying not to stick a gun into my mouth." Beckendorf now looked at Heidi, who began to speak.

"Well, you know how I was assigned to Vale. Sabotage, recon, and the occasional skirmish. One day though, Commander Adam did something that baffled us all."

"What was it?"

"He allied with humans. I was away when it happened, but it was one hell of a shock when I returned. I never got a good glimpse of them, because they were pretty secretive in their affairs. Well, except for Roman Torchwick and his companion-"

"She was called Neo. That girl makes me think of ice cream. Damn, now I want some." Beckendorf interjected.

"Yes, thank you Beckendorf. I got selected for recruitment into a strike team, and had just about finished my training. As a result of my performance and service record, I was presented this armor and weapon by Commissar Petrenko." As Heidi said this, Herman notice Beckendorf shiver slightly. He motioned to continue.

"There's not much else to say. Life in the White Fang went on, only without you. I was pretty mad about it at first, but I just couldn't stay that way, I guess. Otherwise I wouldn't be sitting with you here. It just feels so unreal." She wistfully gazed off into the distance. Herman felt as if the conversation had come to an end.

"Well, I guess it's 'lights out' as we say in the barracks." Herman said. His friends wearily nodded as they headed to the beds.

"Dibs!" Heidi called and dove onto the big bed. In a few seconds she was asleep. Too weary to complain, Herman crawled onto the roll-up. Pretty soon, he was asleep as well.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Herman woke at approximately 5 a.m., a habit from his time with Alpha Pack. Looking over at his friends, he saw that they were still asleep. Silently he rose, not wanting to disturb them. Herman made his way to the Law books, barely suppressing a groan. As he approached the pile, a little slip of paper pinned to the top book caught his attention.

 _Come see me at 5:30 a.m. tomorrow. Door will be unlocked-Ozpin_

Well, he had woken up at just the right time. He opened the door and made his way to the office. Soon enough, he was standing at the office door, hesitant to enter. He knocked.

"Come in." Herman stepped in, where he was greeted by the sight of Ozpin seated at his desk, sipping his coffee. Behind him, the first rays of sunlight had begun to penetrate the dark sky.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Herman asked. Ozpin nodded his assent, and motioned at the boy to sit down.

"How are you feeling?" Ozpin asked.

"Just fine, sir." Herman replied, shifting nervously in his seat. He wasn't one for small talk.

"I must say, I expected better of you." When Ozpin said this, Herman lowered his head in shame. He knew exactly where he messed up.

"If you really wanted to face the White Fang, all you had to do was ask, not go sneaking off like some criminal." Now Ozpin had confused Herman.

"How exactly did you sneak along?" Well, now was a good time as any for Herman to tell Ozpin about his little 'ability'.

"Sir, I happen to have a talent for...imposing my will upon other people." Herman thought deeply about how he channeled the tingling in his brain. At Khel, he had done so out of an overly petulant desire to keep his weapon. At Beacon, he had meditated, if one could call art therapy that, and had been capable of influencing a guard (through a wall, no less) of opening his cell door. At the White Fang base, he had tapped into his desire to keep his friends together. Ozpin noticed the pensive look on Herman's face. Then it clicked in his mind for Herman. "I guess you could call it my Semblance."

"Interesting. Now, onto other matters; your time would have been better spent preparing for your case. The festival has just begun, and you know what entails its end."

"Sir, I've read every book there is and I can safely conclude that I have no chance. Never has someone in my situation been pardoned."

"True, but one could always make history."

"My chances of winning my case are as good as fighting a flock of Gryphons with little more than my bare hands, sir." Herman scoffed. Upon hearing this, Ozpin seemed to be saddened. He lay back in his chair, intertwining his fingers.

"I would urge you not to give up hope, Mr. Grauer. But if that is truly how you feel-" Ozpin reached underneath the desk "-your final days may as well be happy ones, no?" He effortlessly pulled out the two things Herman though he would never see again; his rucksack and Nihil. Herman felt as if his jaw would hit the floor. Ozpin smiled.

"I might as well give you the things you cherish. After all, I feel you can be trusted to the point of not doing anything foolish." Herman caressed his weapon, feeling the comforting weight.

"But that's not it. You see, former students have a habit of leaving little things behind when they graduate, and your father was no exception." Ozpin was once more rummaging beneath the desk. "I even tried mailing this to him, but he sent it back. 'Keep it as a memento, Headmaster.' was the note pinned to it. I decided to toss it into the lost and found. But now, it may serve some use." He pulled out a Sherwani, a darker shade of blue-grey, with silver trim. This morning just seemed to get better and better for Herman Grauer.

"I suppose you'd want to spend your last days in freedom, not cooped up in some cell. So, you can wander the Academy, maybe even see a few Tournament matches if you wish."

"Thank you, sir." Was all Herman could muster. He was pleased, yes, but he was also bewildered. What had he done to deserve this?

"Thank me by studying harder for your case. And don't do anything silly. Now go on." Herman gratefully rose from his seat, and in an excited haze he stumbled back to his room, where his friends were just starting to wake up. Putting the rucksack and Nihil against the wall, Herman put on his new Sherwani. It fitted quite nicely, even if it was a bit tight in the shoulder. He sat back down at the table and began to study with new-found fervor.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Two hours later, his friends were still asleep. Herman supposed they would wake up at 7:30 a.m. which is the time a White Fang operative (if he/she were not in the Special Forces) would be unceremoniously pitched out of bed. Pushing himself away from the stack of books, his brains swarming with legal detail, he decided to take an inventory check of his bag. What turned up was:

-2 boxes of matches

-1 flashlight, slightly cracked when he dropped it.

-1 Compass

-6 batteries

-5 magazine boxes for Nihil (Empty)

-A pair of digital patterned combat trousers and a black long-sleeved shirt.

-His metal gauntlet, scroll still in its port.

-A dog-eared medical handbook, the margins covered in notes Herman had made while studying with Warren.

-A protective back cover for chainswords; Herman had quit using it after the first week of drilling with Clyde.

-A notepad on which Clyde had sketched basic and advanced maneuvers pertaining to the three combat styles used for a chainsword.

This last item Herman began to flick through. His eyes roved over the pages, Clyde's voice narrating the notes which accompanied the illustrations

 _There are three combat styles; Ursa, which is used for heavy opponents. It involves heavy strikes to wear down Aura and crush armor, coupled with kicks in order to stagger the opponent. Taijitu, which is a fast style meant to inflict seemingly small wounds at critical areas, slowly bleeding the target. Good for quick opponents. Finally, Gryphon. 360-degree spins, arcs and the like to fend off opponents when you are surrounded._

Herman snapped the notepad shut, considering his fighting style. He had made use of the Ursa style against Grimm, and against two or three of the hunters at the lumber yard. He wasn't much of a purveyor of the Taijitu Style, only using it against the fast type of Grimm, like Creeps and against two specific huntsmen in the lumber yard. By his own estimate, Herman was alright in the Ursa and Gryphon Style, but not too good in the Taijitu Style.

Well, he'd have to change that. It was all well and good to read the notes, but to improve one had to implement and hone techniques. Looking over at Heidi, he considered asking her to spar with him.

But first, they'd have to find a suitable place. Herman carefully made his way out and began to comb the Academy for a secluded location.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Having selected the cliff overlooking the Emerald Forest, Herman headed back to his room, where his friends had woken and now were taking turns changing. Once Heidi had finally stepped out, all armored up, Herman communicated his desire for a practice match.

"Alright, but first we have to retrieve my weapon." Heidi said.

"Where is it?"

"When you hurried on to get arrested by those robots, I tossed Gratia Venti into the dumpster so it wouldn't get confiscated."

"Let's go and get it then."

They had to wait a while for the first transport Bullheads to arrive, carrying their cargo of students from other Academies. When they passed the ticket-counter, the trio held their breaths, expecting to be halted and frog marched back. Luckily, the clerk didn't take a good look at them with his bloodshot eyes and wearily passed over the tickets. Transport for students and faculty was free, but as they were not students or faculty they had to pay the standard 5 Lien fee.

Sometime later, they had managed to get to the alleyway after waiting around for the first B While Heidi rummaged round, Herman and Beckendorf kept watch. Or rather, admired the graffiti on the wall. Some people were really creative.

 _Secundus is being buggered ceaselessly and without mercy._

 _Cassius you bastard, you owe me 50 Lien._

 _Luna, that dark-haired, drunk huntsman will only bring you bad luck._

It was a fine morning, no-one had stopped them so far and they seemed to be patching up that massive breach with plenty of cement.

"Got it." Heidi pulled out Gratia Venti and began to wipe it down.

"You know of a place where we could spar?" Heidi asked.

"I know just the place."

They got back to Beacon, where the Academy had come alive, with students and staff making their way around. The influx of foreign students ensured Herman, Heidi and Beckendorf were not out of place-much. At least Beckendorf had ditched the White Fang hoodie for a Festival T-shirt.

The Cliffside was deserted, as ever. Herman and Heid stood an equal distance from one another, weapons ready. Beckendorf stood firmly onto one side.

"You may begin." The reindeer called out.

Herman rushed Heidi, who nimbly dodged out of the way of his fast, heavy strikes. He roundhoused, but she nimbly pirouetted out of the way and struck him twice on the back. He whipped around and parried the third. She leapt back, readying her swords. Herman revved Nihil and leapt forward, making quick, fast swipes. Nihil's teeth barely missed her plume, and they scraped her armor as she ducked to avoid the blows. She backpedaled, being pressed by Herman, who left himself open after a fast, forward thrust. Seizing her chance, she shoulder barged him in the side, but Herman had dug his feet into the ground, mooring himself. As her shoulder plate connected with his side, Herman took one hand off Nihil and looped it round her neck, tightening his grip. He fell back, letting his weight carry them both and bringing Nihil close to her unarmored neck.

But Heidi was not without her fair share of moves. She kicked upwards, and the steel-toed boot hit Herman square in the face, knocking him back. She was upon him on a flash, and Herman barely had time to parry the two blades with Nihil. His chainsword's teeth connected with the edge of Gratia Venti, letting out an angry scream upon contact. The sudden loss in Heidi's attack momentum allowed Herman to get up. Heidi joined the two blades and rolled back, nocking an arrow. Herman charged her, dodging the first, second and third arrows but as he was just upon her, she hit him square in the stomach with an anti-gravity arrowhead, sending him flying upwards. He landed hard, but regained his feet only to see Heidi charging him. He charged, but when they were just about to clash Heidi flipped right over him, nocking three arrows while in the air. He spun round and brought Nihil up just in time, parrying the three in flight. She landed on her feet, pretty close to him. Heidi tried to roll out of the way, but Herman pounced with the fury of a predator. This time she wasn't so lucky. Nihil slammed into her chest, staggering her. It was followed up by a heavy overhead swing crashing down on her visored helmet. If she didn't have an Aura, the thing would be crushed from the force of the blow. The very thought of it made Herman pause, allowing Heidi to slash at his side rapidly, jerking him back to reality. He parried and began to deliver a flurry of fast swipes towards her knees, which were only protected by a thick leather skirt and a pair of sabatons. She was swept off her feet by the sudden counter attack, and landed on her back. Wasting no time, Herman stomped on her right arm, causing her to release her grip on Gratia Venti. Disarmed, Herman quickly straddled her chest and brought the whirring teeth of Nihil close to her neck. He saw the fear in her apple-green eyes and watched sweat drip down the bridge of her nose. The tingling in his skull had extended to the very beginning of his spine.

"Okay, okay." She said, breaking into a nervous smile. She raised her hands in defeat.

"Good fight, bro." Beckendorf called out. Wearily, Herman got off her and pulled her up.

"I think we ought to head back and rest." Herman said, panting. Heidi nodded in assent.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Later, Herman was back at his table, alternating between Law and the medical handbook. However, the fight kept playing in Herman's mind as he analyzed Heidi's attacks and his responses. He had used the Ursa and Taijitu style, and he had improved-but only slightly. Heidi had pressed him hard and nearly had pushed him to the edge of defeat. Scrawling new notes in the notepad, he wondered how Heidi had leapt so high when they were about to clash.

"Hey, Heidi?" She looked over at him.

"How'd you jump so high during the fight?" She seemed to be surprised at that.

"Our Auras not only protect us, but let us run faster, jump higher, hit harder and carry heavier loads than normal people. I don't really know the details, however. It's something to do with subconsciously focusing our Aura to the relevant parts of our bodies before taking an action like jumping or attacking, but I can't tell you much beyond that." Heidi explained.

"Thanks...I suppose I ought to begin practicing once more. I mean, it would be kind of neat to-"

"Perform insane acrobatics in a fight? Yes, yes it would." Beckendorf butted in as he idly tapped at his scroll.

"Just give me five minutes and we can practice." Heidi said.

"You guys do what you wanna do. I'll sit here and stream the first fight of the Vytal Festival." Beckendorf said.

Five minutes later, Herman and Heidi were standing before the student dormitories.

"You want me to jump up there?" Herman asked incredulously.

"Yep."

"Right, right. No problem." Herman rubbed his hands and readied himself. He ran full tilt at the wall and leapt, closing his eyes. For a moment he gracefully soared through the air, but only for a moment. The brick wall welcomed him, and he fell backwards, pain wracking his body. Faintly, in the distance he could hear Heidi laughing. Slowly he got up, aching all over, but upon seeing her delighted face the pain seemed to evaporate.

"Well, you did make it halfway up. C'mon, try again."

Four more times he hit various different stories, four more times he had to contend with Heidi's delighted laughter. On the fifth time, he took a deep breath and focused himself. In his mind's eye, a crackling blue-grey current began to form. It crackled and sparked, bubbled and frothed; but most of all it-his Aura, was engulfing him, ready to be tapped into. Tapping into his Aura and drawing upon his reserves of strength, he took off running and leapt.

Herman soared through the air, watching the dormitory disappear from view as he now had a bird's eye view of Beacon Academy. But what comes up must come down, and Herman felt the sickening sensation of descending rapidly. Looking down, the sensation in his stomach was only intensified when he realized he wasn't going to make the roof.

His current trajectory was carrying him right into the top dorm window. Doing what any rational half-Faunus would, he opened his mouth and began to scream.

"OOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHH SSSHIIIII-"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I don't like it." Yang fumed as she performed her equipment check. She slammed the shells into Amber Cecelia. Team RWBY was up for their first match against team ABRN in two hours' time, so they were in their dorm, making sure everything was shipshape before the fight. The rest of the girls remained silent as they went over their weapons time and again.

"I mean, why is he wandering about freely? With his weapon, no less! A confirmed criminal, just walking about!"

"Yang, just let it drop. We've got to prepare for the match." Ruby said, trying to pacify her sister. She did feel unsettled how their target was free, but there were other pressing matters. Namely, upholding the honor of the Academy in the tournament. That, and the fact that she had run out of cookies.

"I have to agree with Yang. He was also at that White Fang base in South-East Vale with two other members of that organization." Weiss shuddered, the events of Prom night fresh in her mind. She wanted to tell them what happened that night, but she also didn't want them to worry during the tournament. What if, because of her they were too preoccupied to give their 110%? The thought made Weiss shudder even worse. Even if the target was mentally disturbed-shouting at shadows, begging to be killed-she wouldn't be unprepared the next time they met.

Blake, as usual, remained silent. Then her ears perked up, and she looked at the window with alarm.

"Do you hear that?"

"What?"

"Shhh! I hear it too."

Faintly, in the distance they could hear...screaming?

"-IIIIIITTTT!"

The window shattered, startling the team and making them jump into combat positions, ready to fight off the uninvited visitor.

Herman Grauer looked up at the startling array of weaponry aimed at him. Then it dawned upon him that he had landed in the dorm of his pursuers, such was his luck. Slowly, he rose with his hands raised in surrender. The weapons trailed his movement, shock evident on the girl's faces.

"Sorry about that... I just got a bit carried aw-away..." Herman's voice trailed off as he saw their expressions harden from shock to anger. Once step back, two, three, four. His shins bumped against his entry-point. Looking back, he saw the empty space where the window once was. In front of him, the only exit was blocked by the heavily armed girls.

"Explain yourself." said the littlest one, her silver eyes boring into Herman's own.

 _Fuck that_ , came his panicky and thoroughly illogical-thought process.

They cocked their weapons.

Shit, the choice was easy. He had made it before after all. Bullets, or broken bones?

He fell backwards, letting his momentum carry him over the window. He heard their shocked cry, but was more preoccupied with the sensation of falling. Herman flipped round in the air, so now he could watch the pavement come closer. Instinctively, he formed a pose he had seen in many comic books.

WHUMPF

Perfect superhero landing, complete with cracks in pavement. He looked back up at the girls who were staring out of the window, weapons ready.

Then he looked to his left, where the second group of pursuers stood, with similar shocked expressions. The knight drew his sword, the redhead her spear and shield, the crazy girl her hammer and the dark-haired boy whipped out two bladed automatic pistols.

He looked at Heidi, and did what any logical half-Faunus would do. He ran and grabbed her before they could start chasing him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

After that incident, Herman didn't wander the Academy-much. Every day he exercised and sparred with Heidi, for having a life or death court case draw closer each day was no excuse not to better oneself. Coupled with study sessions, Herman also took time out for his art therapy. There was something about it that let him confront specters of the past, allowing him to move on. But every once in a while, the dead would break out of their crypts to haunt his dreams. Fortunately, these periods were growing far and few between.

Most of all, the therapy intensified the electric tingling in his cranium, which had now grown to a full current running in his brain and spine. It was not an unpleasant feeling, but it did take getting used to. Sometimes, he woke up with the burning in his eyes, the world having turned blue-grey once more. Fortunately, it only took a few blinks for him to start seeing normal again, but he did notice that some people glowed more brightly than others, whereas inanimate objects like tables and chairs were simply blackish-grey. Interestingly enough, items like Nihil, his gauntlet and Heidi's Gratia Venti took on a blue outline, as if infused with part of themselves.

Occasionally, Herman would watch a tournament match. Those matches would make his blood race and his fingers twitch, for he wished that he was there. Sparring with a friend was good, but Herman wanted to be out in the arena, proving one's mettle against varied opponents. Maybe after the court case.

Herman's heated dreams also returned, but he didn't know what to do about them. Embarrassed, he drew away from Heidi except for sparring sessions, spending the rest of his time trying to study in some secluded corner while being assailed by rather worrying-albeit satisfying-thoughts. In truth, it was rather terrifying as well, especially when he was talking to Heidi. Once, he asked Beckendorf for some hormone inhibitors, figuring his supply corps buddy would probably help him out. Instead, Beckendorf waited for Heidi to leave on some errand or the other (Herman was facing the wall, burying his tomato-red face in _The Atlesian Judiciary System_ ) before sitting down with his friend for a talk.

"Those things are not good for your health. And before you ask; no, I don't have the inhibitors." The reindeer said.

"What can I do? I feel funny all day and night, and talking to her only worsens it. I keep thinking the strangest things." Herman half-howled.

"You wouldn't be experiencing this if you had ditched the inhibitors after your first heat. Instead you kept repressing it, and now the dam is bursting loose." Beckendorf reprimanded Herman. "It's only healthy for this to happen. Be fortunate that you got off with intensified feelings rather than any other unfortunate side effects."

"How long will it go on?" Herman moaned in desperation.

"I dunno. Just ride it out for now, and I promise you that it'll be easier second time round. C'mon, lets return to fight. I hear its team JNPR versus BRNZ." And so, the duo returned to the match.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

After the exciting doubles match between Flynt Coal and Neon Kat versus Yang Xiao Long and Weiss Schnee, Herman decided to visit the city for a while to get some fresh air. He left in the early hours of the morning, wishing to be alone for a while.

Vale was different in the mornings. At this time only police officers, Atlesian soldiers, Knights and the green-and-khaki clad Vale Guardsmen patrolled their checkpoints. Sometimes, he'd see another lonely civilian about his age, all clad in black as if he were in mourning, simply wandering round, and both would quietly acknowledge the other's presence as they passed each other.

Herman walked for quite a bit, round the main streets, the alleyways, the shuttered shops and the port, where the grim battleships of the Vale Navy stood. Above in the skies, the imposing Atlas ships floated with a lightness that belied their massive weight.

Herman was wandering round the warehouse district when his ears perked up, alerted by a faint screaming, coupled by sound of breaking things in the distance. Following the sound, he drew Nihil from its sheath as the sound grew louder in intensity.

Suddenly, the screaming stopped. It appeared to be coming from the warehouse before him, and Herman could see the it's fire escape door was damaged, as if someone had barged in. Cautiously he entered, his eyes quickly getting used to his surroundings. There was a steady _drip-drip-drip_ coming from somewhere inside, accompanied with a harsh, tangy smell.

Herman moved round the massive pile of crates, where he stumbled upon a shattered one. Within were little alabaster statues of Grimm, coupled with a few metallic masks in the likeness of Beowolves. However, the masks were the least of his concerns. Shifting some of the broken wood aside, he found a man's hand.

It had been torn off, judging by the desiccated skin. A little white bone poked out from the red. Herman became aware of something dripping down onto his head. He looked up at the walkway, where he saw the owner of the hand.

The man hung halfway from the walkway, his face twisted by fear. His arm hung freely, blood dripping from his crimson sleeve.

What had he stumbled onto now? Cursing, he made his way to a ladder leading up to the walkway. Upon ascending, he saw that the man wore a torn black robe, with hints of red and white. A series of red ridges crisscrossed his pale exposed back.

Stepping forth, Herman saw two more bodies. One was of a woman, slumped against the wall. Her neck had been slashed from ear to ear, in a grotesque crimson 'smile'. The other was a younger man, whose legs lay five feet away from his body. Both wore similar clothing as the be-handed man.

There was a sudden clang of metal to his right, causing Herman to whip round, Nihil ready. There was a door at the very end of the walkway, left slightly ajar. Slowly, he moved right up to it. Within he could hear gurgling and squelching. Unable to bear the tension, he burst through.

On a table lay yet another of the black-robed ones. The woman stared glassily at Herman. She opened her mouth, red spilling from within.

However, that wasn't what got Herman's attention.

The solitary fellow he had passed in the morning was there. He no longer wore the black trench coat and grey formal vest, exposing the armor he wore beneath. His breastplate overlapped with the finely articulated and jointed armor extensions on his back upon which three swords lay sheathed, two shortswords and one longsword. As he stretched his bloody, gauntleted hand to plunge the knife back into the woman, Herman saw the articulated joints bend in unison. Beneath the armor, he wore black pants and steel-plated boots.

This guy's totally insane, Herman thought as he revved Nihil up. The sound of the chainsaw made the murderer whip round, his necklace-shaped in the form of a Beowulf's tooth-whipping about wildly. His pale face showed no expression, remaining blank and emotionless. Beneath his skin, Herman could see dark, vein-like impressions which bulged with alarming regularity, and he wondered why he hadn't seen that earlier when they passed one another.

"Ah, hello. I saw you in the morning, didn't I?" he asked, as if they were meeting for a nice cup of tea. Herman remained silent and raised Nihil.

"Now, now. You just have the misfortune of catching me-" the man gestured at the still-spasming woman "-at a bad moment. I assure you-"

"Shut up." Herman snarled. Still, the man remained undeterred by Herman's tone and continued talking.

"I really do hate when an ignorant person bursts into matters of far greater magnitude than he can imagine. They tend to ruin things marvelously." Behind him, the helpless woman spasmed one last time before staying still. Fury overtook Herman, and he lunged at the murderer, who lunged out of the way. Nihil cleft into the table, and carried by the weight of the blow it split into two, dropping woman to the ground. Herman whipped round to parry his foe's attack. He had drawn a claymore, and they were engaged in a blade lock, face to face. Unless his eyes were deceiving him, Herman could see the vein impressions grow darker and bulge with greater intensity.

"Now, now-" said his opponent with absolutely no goddamn emotion "-we can start fresh. I'm Daken Ookami, and I don't feel the need to fight."

Herman shoved against Daken, bringing his strength to bear upon his lithe opponent. Daken stumbled backwards, but retained his balance. Herman stepped forward, changing his stance to the Taijitu Style. Daken backed up against the railway, keeping his blood red eyes on Herman. His slitted pupils narrowed.

"I'll give you one more chance. Listen well, and maybe you can make it out alive."

"If you want to fight, fight. Don't waste your breath talking." Herman growled.

"So be it." Daken flipped over the edge, landing on his feet. Herman rushed to the edge, rapidly scanning the location, but Daken was nowhere to be seen. Following his example, Herman leapt over the edge and landed, combat-ready. Yet his opponent did not appear. Herman strained his wolf ears for any sound of movement, yet he could not make out anything. The current in his skull began to amplify itself.

Suddenly, there was a rush of air at his back. Herman twisted out of the way, watching the claymore narrowly missing his side. Herman blocked the other blow and swiftly countered his opponent. Daken swiftly dodged the swings and slices, weaving this way and that. If Heidi was as graceful as the wind, then this guy was as slippery as an eel. Herman kicked out and caught Daken in his unarmored stomach, sending the man flying into a pile of crates. The ones at the bottom shattered upon impact, causing the ones at the top to teeter and fall. Metallic Grimm masks clattered everywhere, as well as little alabaster statues of Grimm, sending up puffs of dust when they shattered against the floor. Herman strode through the wreckage, searching for his enemy. He shut his eyes and concentrated on the current in his spine, and opened his eyes to scan for any red glowy blobs in the vicinity. He looked round, but saw nothing.

Daken slunk through the shadows, having regained his feet quickly. He used the clouds of dust to his advantage, slinking up to his foe. He had gotten lucky once, but he wouldn't be getting lucky again.

Herman was struck in the side, staggering him and breaking his focus. The second blow whipped round his chest and back, causing pain to flare up. Daken now became a blur of strikes, rapidly landing blows on his target.

Herman leapt backwards out of the sixth stroke's reach and began his counterattack. He feinted at Daken, causing him to block prematurely. Herman followed it up with a leg sweep, flooring his enemy. Daken rolled away from the furious swipes and doubled round a thick support pillar. Herman dodged out of the way of the first blow and returned a few hits. Nihil whined as it scraped off the breastplate and the very tip of a chainsword tooth tore past his shirt and drew blood. Daken looked down in disbelief, before resuming his attacks with renewed ferocity.

Herman could only parry and dodge the rapid swipes, unable to find an opening. He was tiring now, and rivulets of sweat were running down his body. It had grown lighter outside, indicating they had been fighting for quite some time now, and Herman wasn't sure how much longer he could keep this up, for Daken certainly showed no signs of quitting.

Finally, in the distance Herman heard his deliverance; the long drawn out wails of police sirens. Someone must have heard them fighting and called the cops to investigate the disturbance.

Oum bless their soul, whoever that someone was.

Daken stopped striking and rolled away, his articulated armor not creaking at all. He slowly stepped backwards, melding into what little shadows remained.

"I like you. You put up a good fight." he said, betraying no hint of emotion. Herman lowered Nihil, his arm muscles aching.

"Meet me at the docks tonight, and then we can talk this out like civilized gentlemen. Twelve a.m." Daken announced, the shadows now completely engulfing him.

Herman rushed the shadows, but they seemed to dissipate as soon as he got close, with Daken nowhere to be seen. Herman sighed and wearily strode out of the warehouse. Down the alleyway, a pair of cops stood.

Not that way then, Herman thought as he ducked out of another side alley.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

That night, Herman arrived at the docks at the appointed time. It was quite misty, and Herman felt uneasy. He reached for Nihil.

"No need for that." Daken came striding out of the mist, clad in his coat and vest, beneath which the dark armor glinted. Not sure of what to say, Herman stood on guard.

"I believe we got off on the wrong foot this morning. Let's try this again; names." He pointed at Herman. As much as Herman loathed to do so, he would have to earn Daken's trust if he wanted information.

"Herman Grauer."

"Nice to meet you, Herman." From Daken's blank expression and dead tone of voice, Herman wasn't sure if the guy was being genuine or not. It was irking him.

"What do you want?" Herman asked, for the sake of breaking the silence.

"What do I want? Why, I've come to tell you a little story, so we may understand one another a little more."

"Get to the point."

"Very well. I can sense you care little of who I am, so I'll make it short, as you prefer. You noticed how all those dead people wore strange clothing, and had strange things lying about in their crates, correct?" Herman nodded in reply to this question.

"You see, they happen to be a rather unsavory cult responsible for ruining my life."

"You're out for revenge?" Herman knew that feeling, but it still didn't make Herman less uneasy.

"Correct." There was an awkward silence. Daken sighed.

"You fight well, so maybe I might have some use for you."

"How can I trust you? Criminals often hide behind ideology."

"I haven't killed you yet." Daken's reply rankled Herman.

"Don't be so sure of yourself." Herman growled.

"The hour grows late, and I've got places to be. Arguing will get us nowhere."

"What do you propose?" Herman had to agree. He wanted to get up early to catch the semi-final match and put this whole business behind him.

"Take my number. Someday, I might call upon you for a favor. Pray that day never comes."

They exchanged numbers, and parted ways. As he made his way to Beacon, Herman struggled with the fact that he had allowed a murderer to go free. His conscience nipped at him, but upon reaching his room, his doubts were washed away when an irate Heidi confronted him, wanting to know what he had been up to during the day.

"No note, nothing! You could at least inform your friends!" She ranted, but Herman dropped into his bed and let sleep overtake him. It sure was nice to have concerned friends.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The Vytal Festival went on, and Herman heard little about his little incident save for a mention of the warehouse murders, suspects unknown. It might have even have made headlines, except that the Vytal Festival took precedence on all news channels. That was good.

Nothing very remarkable occurred, save for the injuring of a defeated combatant in the semi finals. Herman winced in pain as he saw Yang break the opponent's leg; but dismissed it from his mind a mere five minutes after it happened. It did not concern him, for he had far more important things to do, namely studying, sparring and art therapy.

Finally came the fateful day, the final round of the tournament. Penny Polladina versus Pyrrha Nikos. Herman had been dragged from his books to the scroll by Beckendorf and Heidi, who were laying bets over the fight. Meanwhile, Herman prepared to add more notes to his pad, which was running short on pages due to his analyzing of fight styles employed by the combatants during the tournament.

Well, it was the last day, so he might as well have fun. Next up was his court case. Herman settled into his seat and waited for the match to begin.

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

 **Lest I forget, remind to never, _ever_ again try to compress one whole volume into one chapter. Anyways, I'm sorry for taking such a long time. If you're liking the story so far, don't forget to follow, fave, and review!**


	23. Fall

"Ooooh!" They collectively cried out as Pyrrha sliced Penny Polledina. It wasn't just them. Though they watched from their scroll, they could hear the entire stadium, including the announcers fall silent.

It wasn't the fact that a girl had been viciously torn apart, no. It was the fact that the girl was not squishy blood and guts, but rather gears and circuits. The camera zoomed in, showing a close-up of the fizzling wires and bubbling the circuits. It lingered over her blank face, frozen in its last expression before immediate shut-down.

"A robot." Heidi was stunned. Her tail thrashed about in an agitated manner.

"One that looks like a human." Beckendorf followed up.

Herman remained silent, though he was as shocked as the rest. Suddenly, the scroll screen turned red, displaying a single chess piece. A black queen.

The narration resumed, but this time a woman spoke.

"This is not a tragedy. This was not an accident. This is what happens when you hand over your trust, your safety, your children, to men who claim to be our guardians..."

The speech droned on, and on, and on, and on, and before Herman knew it, he had to be jerked awake by Beckendorf.

"Now's not the time to take a nap, idiot!" Outside, they could hear gunfire and explosions.

"Something's going down at the stadium." Herman said, wrestling with his confusion. "So, I suggest we head over to Ozpin's office to find out what the hell is going on."

Herman grabbed Nihil and piled all his stuff into the rucksack-save his books-before stepping out. Heidi followed closely, Gratia Venti at the ready. Beckendorf trailed behind both, having no weapon to protect himself.

They hurried across the main courtyard, Herman leading the way to Ozpin's office. In the distance, they could hear gunfire and the unmistakable roars of the Grimm. In the sky, they could see a darkness which made the shadows of the night sky pale in comparison.

"By Oum..." Herman had never seen so many Gryphons and Nevermores in one place. The heart of the swarm completely encapsulated the stadium, with their ever-growing numbers threatening to black out the shattered moon. Above them, they hear an approaching jet engine.

Transport Bullheads soared above them. For a moment Herman believed evac had arrived, or possibly soldiers, but his hopes were shattered when four bullheads hovered and opened the side doors, revealing White Fang thugs standing by vast cages holding Grimm.

Four cages landed in the courtyard, the bars bursting from the impact. Out leapt one Ursa Major, and three Beowolves. The three lesser brethren charged at Herman, who braced himself for the incoming attack. As the three approached in unison, Herman revved Nihil and held the blade close by his side, the tip of the chainsword sparking against the marble behind him. The Beowolves were upon him, each drawing their mighty claws backwards...

...and leaving their necks exposed. Herman swung high and swung true, sending Nihil shearing through the gaps in their armor. The chainsword purred encouragingly as its teeth sliced tendons, beheading the beasts. Their corpses dissipated, and Herman looked over to Heidi, who had pinned the Ursa Major to a pillar with her arrows. The beast howled in pain and snapped at the iced-over shafts sticking out of its body, but it struggled in vain. Heidi ran at it and leapt, elegantly spinning through the air, Gratia Venti slicing deep into the beast's neck.

"Look! We're saved!" Beckendorf cried out, pointing at the five Atlesian Knights arriving. While Herman disliked those automatons, he could not deny that they required the extra firepower.

They inexorably marched towards them, readying their weapons. Herman tensed, scanning the surrounding area for any Grimm. What were the Knights aiming at?

"Herman, look out!" Heidi cried out, and Herman whipped round to see them firing at him. Their shots found their mark, punching into Herman's Aura. Gritting his teeth, he raised Nihil, blocking some of the shots as he charged forward, noticing that their 'faces' were now emitting a harsh red glow.

Heidi impaled one with Gratia Venti, kicking another to the ground and stomping on its head. The third retargeted her, but before it could pull the trigger Nihil burst through its chest, eagerly sawing away at the inner components. He felt the other two unloading bullets into him. He stood firm, his body a barrier.

It didn't matter.

Heidi sidestepped and threw one of Gratia Venti's blades, sending it slicing through both Knights' heads. They dropped; vital circuits severed.

Herman pulled Nihil out of the Knight's chest, looking at Heidi with concern. She wasn't hurt, which relieved his concern somewhat.

"Guys? I think we should get indoors or something." Beckendorf nervously called out, looking up to the sky. Flocks of Nevermores and Gryphons were approaching the school, and it appeared as if they were following something larger.

Something very large. Herman stepped back, speechless. Heidi let the remaining blade of Gratia Venti fall from her hand.

"Dragon." Beckendorf muttered, as awed as the rest.

Whatever was happening, they could be sure of one thing; they needed to get to someone who they could trust.

Ozpin.

"Come on!" Herman motioned at his friends, and they rushed through the deserted halls, as all the students had been at the arena for the final match, none of them (save the ones participating) armed for such an eventuality. The timing was impeccable, and Herman got the feeling that this was no freak attack.

 _No time to ruminate on that. Get to Ozpin, maybe he can tell you what's going on_ , Herman thought.

They passed the landing area, slowing to a halt as they saw the spectacle unfold. Multiple Knights, their positions illuminated by red lights had pinned down a small squad of Atlesian soldiers and Vale Guardsmen. They had taken cover behind a Bullhead, but it didn't seem that they would last much longer, because the first few Gryphons and Nevermores were circling in the sky. The Nevermores opened a barrage of sharp quills, impaling human and Knight alike, while the Gryphons swept down and snatched up whatever they could in their filthy claws.

"We've got to get those men out of there. Heidi, you deal with the Grimm while I deal with the Knights. Beckendorf, you stick here." Herman rushed into the open, Heidi in tow. A gryphon swept down, opening its maw.

Heidi nocked an electric dust charged arrowhead and sent it flying into the Grimm's mouth. The arrowhead cracked and fizzled, sending the Gryphon tumbling across the ground. Herman leapt over its ungainly body, while Heidi somersaulted through the air and sunk the blade of Gratia Ventis into the beast's belly.

Herman sprinted towards the closest Knight and split it apart with a blow from Nihil. Upon the arrival of this new threat, the Knights retargeted him, forcing Herman to dive this way and that, evading the shots until he got close enough to eliminate the robots. He became a blur, rapidly swinging Nihil in wide arcs, pirouetting out of bayonet thrusts, dodging Nevermore quills and Gryphon sweeps.

Herman had just finishing dismembering another Knight when there was the sound of heavy stomps. Rolling out of the way of a quill, Herman saw an Atlesian Paladin coming his way, weapons hot. Heavy cannon rounds narrowly missed him and smashed into the assorted parked Bullheads, wrecking the craft. A missile rack popped up from its right shoulder and unleashed a volley of rockets, sending Herman flying. He landed right next to the squad, who looked at him in awe before returning fire. Herman quickly got to his feet.

"Grauer! You here?!" Oliva bellowed. Upon his back was a large, heavy pack, from which an ammunition belt fed right into his automatic grenade launcher. Beside him, dwarfed in Oliva's shadow was the Atlesian soldier who had confronted Herman in the lumber yard with his two Atlesian Knights. His reddish-brown moustache twitched in agitation.

"We've got to get out of here. You're easy pickings for the Grimm." Herman said. Oliva nodded his assent, while the officer with a moustache looked like he wanted to say something.

"If you have something to say, say it fast. We'll be dead in thirty seconds or so." Herman looked over at Heidi, who was having a hard time dodging the multiple attacks by the Grimm. More Beowolves, Ursas, Creeps and Borabatusks had joined the fight, and were heading right for them. At the far end of the airstrip, Herman could see a King Taijitu slither towards them

"Oliva, Akram, Thompson. Lay down suppressive fire so we can head to that Bullhead to our six. Then we'll lay down fire so you can get across." The officer commanded. His men nodded their assent, even as flak riddled their cover and a quill burst through the fuselage of the Bullhead, they were taking cover behind.

"One, two, three, give them all we've got!" The three soldiers burst out of cover, riddling anything and everything that moved with bullets. Oliva's grenade launcher was particularly helpful, killing many of the Grimm near Heidi and preventing her from getting swarmed.

Herman followed the commanding officer along with four other soldiers. As soon as they reached their new cover, the officer nodded at the group.

"Return the favor." The four soldiers did their part, laying down covering fire while Oliva, Thompson and Roberts retreated to their position. Herma swung round the Bullhead.

"HEIDI! GET OVER HERE!" he bellowed at the top of his voice just as she narrowly dodged an Alpha Beowolf's strike just as a Boarbatusk charged and a Gryphon swept down. The three Grimm collided and snapped at one another, allowing Heidi to retreat. Just then, a Nevermore came swooping down, its claws extended to grab Heidi. She slid, the claws barely grazing her side, and as she rolled back, she rapidly fired her bow. Ice Dust spread across its wings, sending it crashing into the ground and squashing lesser Grimm flat. Herman sprinted and leapt, crashing both knees into the beast's ribcage as he buried Nihil deep into its chest. Shuffling forward, bringing Nihil along, he shattered bone and beak. Heidi retreated, Herman following as he laid down quick bursts of fire.

Taking advantage of the moment, a boarbatusk charged, beowolves in tow, but an explosion disintegrated them. Looking back, Herman saw Oliva, smoke rising from the barrel of his weapon.

"What's the situation?" Herman asked hoarsely as he approached the officer.

"Comms are down, our Knights and Paladins have turned against us, and Grimm are swarming the city." the officer curtly answered. The group retreated deeper within the halls, fighting off any Grimm that confronted them. So far, only lesser Grimm had showed up within Beacon, but their numbers were growing.

"You okay?" Herman asked Heidi.

"You clearly didn't see me kicking ass out there." She grunted in reply, and Herman had to concur.

"We can head to the on-campus garrison. There's got to be a working radio over there." One of the Vale Guardsmen spoke up.

"Oliva, are you getting anything?" The officer asked.

"Negative."

"Very well. We'll get to the garrison."

They moved quickly, and soon were at the garrison, a small building tucked away to the south of the building, where the only road down the mountain was.

"By Oum..." The garrison had been completely overrun. Torn corpses lay everywhere, getting steadily trampled by the ever-growing tide of Grimm of all types.

"There's no way we can blast through that." Oliva stated, disbelief etched onto his face.

"Remain calm. You panic, and that huge tide will come to us." The officer sternly commanded, though Herman could see even his hands were shaking.

"I think we ought to double round, see if there are any survivors." Herman spoke up, much to the officer's disdain.

"You shut your mouth, convict. The only reason I haven't place you in cuffs right now is that we've got bigger problems to worry about." Herman glowered at this response but held his tongue. Once more they heard the droning of an engine, and Herman looked above, fearing more White Fang thugs dropping Grimm. Instead, he saw a transport barge making its way to the central courtyard.

"Seeing as we don' have anywhere ta go, I suppose going where that barge would be a mighty fine idea. Anyone else have any ideas?" Oliva asked, surveying the group.

No-one had.

They hurried back, fighting through the larger groups of Grimm, though fortunately for their sake they did not have to fight anything larger than Alpha Beowoves and Ursa Majors. They approached the main avenue, the sight rekindling their hopes. Multiple hunters-in-training had dropped from the barge, fighting off the Grimm. Herman looked over to Beckendorf.

"Let's give them all we've got!" The officer bellowed, motioning at the battle before them with his pistol.

With full throated war cries they charged into the fray, gunning down robot and Grimm alike. The soldiers slid into various forms of cover, moving from cover to cover to outflank the robots and to evade the Grimm. Meanwhile, Herman advanced, cutting his way through multiple opponents. He was in the thick of the fighting, but he wasn't alone. Heidi was there, among other students who had managed to regain their weapons and were fighting well. Ducking an Ursa's swipe, he sliced through its chest as it was bowled over by a sudden blast. Flynt Coal was there, playing away. When he saw Herman he briefly stopped playing, shock on his face. Herman raised his hand in a pacifying gesture, before rushing forward at Flynt before he could raise his trumpet. He sidestepped Flynt, bring Nihil down on a creep that was sneaking up on him. Looking back, the huntsman nodded, having understood. Flynt's excited cat partner swished by on roller-skates, lashing out with her nun chucks while a girl on her hoverboard mowed down a pack of boarbatusks. Alongside them Herman could recognize a few other combatants, including some of those who had faced him way back at the lumber yard.

No word passed between them; no prior agreement made. It was understood. They were on the same side. And they were winning, having thinned out many of the rouge Atlesian Knights and Grimm. For a moment Herman thought they had a chance, that they could probably repel the attack.

Suddenly, the ground was rocked by explosions, scattering many of the students, Herman included. He tried rising to his feet, but sank to his knees, his ears painfully ringing. The smell of singed hair and burnt flesh was thick in his nostrils. There was a burning sensation in his right hand causing Herman to drop Nihil, and he looked at his hand in shock to see that it was on fire. Promptly he yanked off his sherwani and smothered the flame before it could spread, and upon pulling the sherwani off he noticed with disgusted fascination that the skin of his palm was now a melted mass of reddened blisters and peeling white skin, with the occasional small piece of hot shrapnel embedded within. It stung like hell, and he could barely flex his fingers. Looking up, he saw an Atlesian Paladin stomping down the avenue.

Quickly he put on his sherwai and dragged Nihil with his uninjured hand, taking refuge behind the statue where the officer, Oliva and three of the squad were.

"Damn, that's a nasty wound." Oliva scowled upon noticing Herman. Try as he might, Herman couldn't help gasping out in pain as fiery red-hot swords pierced his palm. Normally when struck he usually felt chills of pleasure, but this was above his pain threshold.

"We're going to need heavy ordinance to take that down...wait, what is that Faunus doing?" The officer peered in wonderment, followed by his men. A female rabbit Faunus was soloing the Paladin, with what appeared to be imitation weapons. First a scythe, then a rapier, and so on. They watched in fascination as she delivered the last blow, destroying the Paladin and emerging victorious from the wreckage.

Trying his best to not whine like puppy, Herman staggered over to where Beckendorf and a recovering Heidi was. They grew alarmed as he came closer, his injured hand hanging limp.

"Herman! We've got to get you medical attention ASAP! Taking several missiles head on isn't advisable for health!" Beckendorf ran over to him, followed by Heidi. He gratefully leaned on her, while Beckendorf helped Herman sheath Nihil. Together, they made their way to the squad. One of the Vale Guardsman pulled out a flare and signaled the barge which hovered above them. Slowly but surely, it descended, and the door swung open.

"Get your wounded aboard!" The officer roared at the students, and a few of them were loaded on along with two Atlesian soldiers. Having been seated, Herman could only wait until Oliva stomped over to him, dragging civilian medic by his collar.

"Now ya treat him, understand." Oliva grunted at the terrified medic.

"Thank you, Oliva."

"Remember; Extend compassion to the enemy." He responded, before busying himself with the officer. The medic pulled out a pair of tweezers, some stitches, bandages, scissors, a syringe filled with some colorless liquid and a tube of burn cream. Herman extended his burnt hand.

"No morphine." He ordered the medic, who looked at him in shock. Herman didn't want to be in a dulled state, at the expense of others.

"You heard me." The medic got to work, removing shrapnel from his hand. It was an arduous, painful process, and Herman tried his best not to scream in pain every time the medic pulled out a piece of metal, causing blood to flow from some of the wounds. Quickly the medic slathered on some ointment, relieving the burning somewhat, though Herman still bled. The medic followed up his treatment by wrapping bandages round Herman's hand, applying pressure to staunch the flow of blood.

"You're lucky none of that shrapnel went in deep. Now lie back and let your Aura do the rest." The medic scurried off, leaving Herman with his friends, who fussed over his wound. Closing his eyes, Herman felt his Aura slowly return to him, sealing wounds and reinvigorating his strength. But there was just one problem.

He was hungry now. And thirsty. And tired. He clenched his bandaged hand, ignoring the pain. It was a good pain, jerking him awake. This was no time to be tired, or thirsty, or hungry.

Oliva returned and took a seat opposite Herman.

"Seems like Captain Lauton finally got contact with General Gaunt of the Vale Guard."

"What about it?" Herman asked.

"It's bad. Grimm everywhere." Oliva glumly said.

"What about the civilians?" Heidi piped up.

"Evacuation is taking place at the Vale Army airbase, the only place along with GHQ that hasn't been overrun. We're waiting here to pick up two more squads before we move on to assist the main evacuation." Oliva replied, twiddling with his grenade launcher's sights.

"Sergeant Oliva! Captain Jack Lauton needs you, sir!" an Atlesian soldier marched up to them. Oliva wearily got up and headed over to the Captain. Herman unsheathed Nihil, stroking the edge. It helped him think.

"Brace for evasive maneuvers." A calm voice crackled through the PA system. The barge vibrated and began to sway. Herman gripped his seat tightly with his unhurt hand. Already he felt his bandage itching.

What about Ozpin? What about Beacon? Herman tussled with his doubts. The two Vale Guardsmen squads boarded the transport barge, and it took off, zooming through the night sky. Herman watched Beacon slowly and slowly fade from view, which only intensified his doubt.

Far too late now. The barge soared through the air, tanking hits from the various airborne Grimm. The craft rocked from side to side, pitching Beckendorf off his seat.

"Next time, use the straps." Herman advised his friend, who only groaned in response. Heidi was staring out of a window, rendered speechless by the destruction. A massive airship, its sleek metal body covered in flame was descended on a crash course for the harbor. She tried not to think of the civilians on the ground and looked away as the impact rocked the barge more fiercely.

" _Is this Adam Taurus's vision? At first I had my doubts, and while Herman solidified them, this…...this is my city that's being destroyed! My sister and mother may be down there!_ " Her eyes dilated in shock and she felt fear run through her heart. " _They could already be dead._ " She nearly gasped, and her heart swelled with terror.

The craft descended at the airbase. As they exited the barge, they saw long, snaking lines of terrified civilians, many with little more than the clothes on their back being herded to the Heavy Bullheads idling on the runway. The noise was deafening, soldiers shouting orders, vehicle engines, the steady pounding of anti-air defenses, crying people and the wailing of sirens. Intermixed with the noise was the smell of engines burning dust, belching out fumes.

Regiments of Vale Guardsmen rushed about to man their perimeter, and Herman saw multiple hangars on the far end of the runway being opened up, from which self-propelled guns, rocket artillery, armored personnel carriers, and tanks drove out, all of them painted the dark green-and-khaki shade of the Vale Guard. As the convoy rumbled past, heading out through the entry gate, Captain Lauton removed his helmet, allowing Herman to see disbelief spread across his features.

"They're ready for battle after a surprise attack on this scale?" He muttered, even as a 2nd Lt. marched up to them.

"Captain Jack Lauton. I have orders to escort you to General Gaunt. Your General Ironwood is there as well." Without waiting for Lauton's reply, he about-faced and quickly marched off, sending the entourage scurrying after him. Having nothing better to do, Herman, Heidi and Beckendorf followed.

The sentries at the main entrance let them pass without hindrance. They passed the reception and headed straight to the main hall, where multiple desks had been set up, each crewed by uniformed technicians clacking away at their computers. At the very end of the hall the two Generals were seated with their respective aides. Ironwood looked worse for the wear, with most of his uniform torn off, revealing his cybernetics. He was engaged in conversation with General Gaunt, who sat with his fingertips joined and eyes closed. He was a short, stocky man, though powerfully built. His skin had the coloration and wrinkling of old parchment though his face was thin and reddish, with swollen nostrils and thick, bushy eyebrows, giving his hollowed eyes a threatening appearance. As they drew nearer they heard snippets of the conversation.

"This is an outrage! Why are these armies mobilizing now?"

"You ought to be damn glad we did, instead of relying on your fancy robots to save us. Right now, your 'superior' robot army has turned against you, slaughtering your and my men. Tell me, Ironwood, how has removing men from the battlefield decreased the bloodshed?" He retorted. Ironwood shook his head and stared back at Gaunt.

"Forget it for now. We've got to evacuate the civilians, and after we are withdrawing from Vale."

"Sir! Contact with the CCTN tower cannot be re-established! International comms are down!" one of the technicians called out. Gaunt sighed.

"You may leave any time you wish General, but I shall be needing a few of your men." Gaunt growled.

"May I ask why?"

"Something-someone is shooting down our transports. Reports indicate they are coming from the city, and they are utilizing SAMs. We need men to take out those missile sites and confirm who is shooting down our aircraft."

"I suppose I could spare a few men. Captain Lauton!" General Ironwood had just noticed them. "Get up here!"

Lauton saluted and crouched by his General, receiving his orders. Many times, he looked like he wanted to say something, but was immediately silenced. Finally, he rose and headed to them.

"Akram, Roberts, Thompson. We've got another mission. Seems like our transports are grounded, and we've got to do something about it."

"SIR, YES, SIR!" They bellowed. Lauton nodded approvingly, before his baleful eye settled on Herman and his friends.

"About you lot." He said, derisively pointing to Herman. "The general has said nothing, but you are wanted for crimes against Atlas. That means you are our property." Herman stared back, trying not to wrap his hands round the Captains neck.

"Stay here." He strode off, leaving Herman to stew in his thoughts. He looked behind and saw Oliva's large frame. Just then the large Atlesian turned around for a moment, his attention called by

He couldn't stay here. For a moment he thought about sneaking aboard one of the transports with his friends. It wouldn't be too hard; they could go….

 _...where, exactly? Where could he run?_ Herman chewed his lip anxiously.

He turned to his friends.

"What I'm about to say may seem crazy, and you're free to leave me now." He said, only worrying his friends further.

"What is it?" Heidi asked, frowning. She looked nice, even when she was frowning.

"I've got nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. So, I'll do the only thing I know; stand and fight. You can leave, I'll see to that-" Beckendorf smacked him. Bewildered, he looked at Beckendorf.

"We haven't got anywhere to run either, you ninny. And I'll not run away while my friend-no, my brother-dies here. If there's anytime, anyplace I'd fight and die, it would be beside you, just like back in Atlas." He chastised Herman. "Also, that was for hitting me earlier." Herman broke into a smile and looked at Heidi. She too, had a smile playing on her lips.

"I have to agree with Beckendorf, as thick as he is." That caused them to laugh, attracting strange stares. Motioning at his friends to follow, Herman headed out of the base and grabbed a passing soldier.

"Hey man, I need some ammo. See, I'm a huntsman, and my weapon uses..." The soldier was a buck private, as young as Herman, so he listened patiently, eyes gleaming. This guy had never seen a huntsman before, apparently. Nor did he read newspapers. Neither did he look like he knew how to read. Unquestioningly, he led the way to the armory. Unfortunately, the door was locked and the buck private apologized before mumbling something about 'finding the quartermaster.' Herman groaned and slammed his fist against the door.

"Wait, let me try something." Beckendorf dug out a knife and some bobby pins out of his pockets. "Lock-picking, along with holding useful items at the right times happens to be in my skill set."

"Beckendorf, this is a military issue lock, coupled with a keypad. Bobby pins won't do the trick." Heid explained, but Beckendorf wasn't listening. He rolled his eyes and crouched before the lock.

"Just keep watch and don't come till I say so." Herman looked at Heidi, who shrugged her shoulders.

"Might as well." She said. They waited outside the narrow hallway, trying to look inconspicuous as various personnel rushed past.

"Ta-daaa!" They looked behind, where Beckendorf was excitedly prancing about the now-open door.

"Yes, yes, Papa Beckendorf is amazing. Now come along." He said, relishing the shocked looks on their faces.

Rifling through the racks, Herman managed to obtain three 100 round Fire Dust ammunition boxes, three 100 round Electric Dust boxes, two of Anti-Grav and one of Wind Dust. Meanwhile, Heidi found a quiver of arrowheads in a crate marked SPECIAL OPERATIONS at the rear, and Herman had acquired a helmet, a flak jacket and a standard issue assault rifle. Hurrying out, they moved out to the runway. Herman was desperately wishing that they were not left behind, that the transport was still there. His heart pounded in his ears, but he finally came upon the VTOL. Steeling his resolve, he marched onwards. Captain Jack Lauton noticed him approaching, with his friends, but Herman didn't care.

Yesterday, he was cold and alone.

Hours earlier, he was hungry.

Minutes before, he was contemplating escape.

No more.

Now, he had his friends with him.

Now, he had purpose.

Now, he would stand and fight.

The debt of blood would be repaid.

For even the tiniest pebble guided by destiny could stop a landslide.

"I told you to stay there. What are you doing here?" unwilling to argue, Herman closed his eyes in frustration. He didn't have time for this.

"We're here to help." He spoke-no, he _commanded_. Lauton reeled, as if he was struck by some major force. He remembered how Herman had easily defeated him in Atlas, how he had murdered so many men. He remembered how easily Herman had cut through the Grimm. Lauton realized that in the panic, the convict could easily overwhelm the base defenses and that there was no manpower to spare for guard detail. It would be better to keep the convict right under his nose. He didn't know about the other two, but he figured that they too had better be watched.

Slowly, he stretched out his hand, and Herman grasped it in his bandaged right hand. The men inside noted his presence but said nothing.

Time to go to work.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 **Hunter/Killer Submarine "Romeo 1" - Dust Fusion Propelled**

 **Fall + 90 minutes**

"This is Commander Dzmitry, reporting. Hunter Group One returning from 90 Day deployment on emergency basis. Contact with other fleets negative." The submarine commander touched his earpiece as he spoke, but only received static. The last message from High Command was a desperate plea to return to port, and Dzmitry feared the worst. Any other time his men would've welcomed the release from the 90-day schedule of 18-hour days-3 six hour segments of sleeping, keeping watch, and spending time-but now a deathly silence had permeated the entire submarine. Men and women moved around hastily but quietly, fearing that the smallest sound would draw something's attention to them. It was a foolish superstition, Dzmitry knew, but it stubbornly persisted thanks to the anxiety created by a lack of contact with HQ and the main fleets.

It wasn't only his vessel. The other submarine commanders in the three-sub group spoke tersely and over long intervals; it had been an hour or so since their last message. Dzmitry twiddled his toes and walked along the cramped corridor, his eyes drifting over the various panels. Touching his earpiece again, he twiddled the dial for short-range receiving. Tuning out the static, he tried contacting Whiskey Two.

"Whiskey Two, this is Romeo One. Come in."

Silence. Dzmitry twiddled his fingers.

"Whiskey Two?" He twiddled the dial some more, switching channels. "Come in, Whiskey Two."

"Sir! Whiskey Two and Charlie Three have disappeared off the VMS!" A crewman called out, breaking the silence. Dzmitry snapped around and tried to say something. But nothing came out-his mouth had been glued shut.

"Sonar detects a large mass five kilometers ahead of us, Sir!" An Officer of the Deck cried out, his faded green tank top stained black with sweat.

"Fire the Mk 54's!" Dzmitry shouted, and his crew hastened to obey. He spun around, tugging at his stiff uniform collar. " _Large mass? The Sea Dragons are long and thin, and no Depthstalker or Polypus could be that large. It can't be one of those!"_

The Submarine shook, and Dzmitry clung onto a rail.

"Confirmed hit!" A crewman shouted.

"Keep firing! It's one of the- "Just then, Dzmitry felt salt gush through his throat. Spluttering, his lungs bursting for air, the last thing he saw retracting through a massive gash in the Submarine's metal wall was a thick black appendage.


	24. Deathwish

Chapter 22: Deathwish

The VTOL soared off towards the burning city. Alongside them flew fighter escorts, gunning down airborne Grimm. As they approached the city they could barely breathe, for the entire city was ablaze, sending thick plumes of smoke in the air.

"Grimm don't start fires." Oliva growled, looking over at the chaos unfolding below. Grimm ran amok in the streets, overcoming the valiant defense put up by the Vale Guardsmen. Rouge Atlesian Knights took potshots at their ride, and the pilots had to swerve multiple times to avoid oncoming fire from Atlesian Paladins.

"We're approaching the destination." the intercom crackled to life, prompting the squad to ready their weapons. Out of force of habit, Oliva checked his ammo belt and motioned at one of the Guardsmen to inspect his backpack, from which grenades were fed into his weapon. He looked over at the crew. Five Guardsmen, five Atlesians, himself included.

And Grauer. Oliva had no idea what that kid was doing aboard the VTOL. The massive soldier shifted uneasily. Grauer was technically the enemy, and if he so much as tried to lift a finger against them Oliva would turn him and his two companions into bloody giblets. Their eyes met for a second, and in that second Oliva felt as if his mind was being assailed, being probed, being _violated_ by some immense, perverted force. The Atlesian broke off his gaze and stared in the other direction.

Herman stroked Nihil as he mulled over Oliva's thoughts. Evidently they still did not trust him. That would have to change.

The VTOL slowed down and hovered right above an apartment building. The light went green, prompting the soldiers to rise as the craft lowered towards the roof. One by one, they exited and spread out in spearhead formation, with Captain Lauton taking the lead. Below they could hear gunfire and screaming, intermingled with guttural growls and shrieks.

There was a sudden crack and one of the Guardsmen grabbed his throat. Immediately his hand went to the affected area, and he may have tried out to gurgle out a warning, but only blood intermixed with saliva exited his mouth. He collapsed onto his knees, slowly choking to death. But they couldn't do anything about it; to not seek cover was to court death.

"SNIPER! TWELVE 'O' CLOCK!" Another Guardsmen yelled, and everyone immediately hit the ground and crawled behind whatever cover they could find.

"Anyone see where that came from?" Oliva called out.

"Definitely from that hotel dead ahead. Probably top floor." Lauton replied. At that very moment, the door leading down the apartment building was kicked open and something small and circular came soaring out, landing hard upon the ground and slowly rolling towards Lauton, whose eyes widened in shock upon noticing what it was. He backed up from the grenade, but before it could detonate a Guardsman flung herself upon it. For a moment, her body was lifted up into the air as if punched by some unseen force. She crumpled up and lay still as a dark red subsatnce began to seep out from beneath her shattered armor.

Herman immediately rushed out of cover and down the stairs, determined to find out the identity of their attackers. He rushed round the stairs, running headfirst into someone. Herman felt the world turn black for a moment as he collided into another person, feeling the rush of his momentum bowl over approximately one, two, three, four and five people. Nihil went flying out of his hand, and Herman heard someone cry out. Groaning, he looked to his right, only to be greeted by a White Fang member lying by his side. Though the Faunus wore a mask, Herman could feel his (or her) eyes boring right into his. Definitely a her.

Another day, he'd be quite pleased. Today, he had a war to fight. He drove his fist into the masked thug's face while kicking out at a hand that had just wrapped round his boot. Regaining his feet, he looked around for Nihil, only to see the chainsword firmly wedged into another Fang member's chest, a red stain spreading across his overalls. Stunned by what he had done, Herman was caught unaware when a third member leapt on him, trying to gauge the wolf's eyes out with his talons, while the thug's partner darted in front of Herman, combat knife at the ready. Herman sidestepped the thrust, driving his foot into the thug's knee, causing the Faunus to drop. Meanwhile, the talons round his eyes had become a complete blur. He drove his elbow backwards into the White Fang member's belly, and for a moment the claws round his face went limp as he heard the Fang member sharply exhale.

At that moment, gunshots rang out, and Herman felt the load fall from his back. The body fell to the ground with a thump.

The Atlesians and Vale Guardsmen made short work of the incapacitated White Fang members, pausing momentarily when Herman pulled Nihil out of the impaled Faunus. The chainsword had gone all the way through his body, and had even cut through the concrete wall. Herman grimaced upon seeing Heidi and Beckendorf's shocked faces, but there was little else he could do. Silently, the group descended the stairs and entered the street, where pandemonium reigned. Multiple Guardsmen, along with a few Atlesians had been able to fortify a plaza junction with rows of sandbags, barbed wire and machine guns. Two APCs blocked the southern road, while a tank with a flak cannon as its main armament was pounding away at aerial Grimm. Flashing signs indicated that the route to the evacuation zone was through the junction and towards the east.

Immediately, the squad was met with gunfire, and once more they hurled themselves behind what little cover could be found. Herman crouched behind a dark blue sedan, Beckendorf and Heidi by his side.

"Definitely holed up in the hotel!" Beckendorf hollered over the gunfire. "Third floor!" He added. Herman switched Nihil to its LMG form, slamming in a box of Anti-Grav.

"I'll suppress them and you guys rush in." He told his friends, who readied themselves. Looking over at the captain, who had taken cover behind a green hatchback, Herman called out.

"Captain!" Lauton peeked around cover, breathing heavily. "I'll suppress them! Take your team and go!" Lauton disappeared behind the vehicle as more shots clattered off the side of the vehicle. Herman pressed Nihil against his shoulder, firmly gripping the weapon. Herman drew a deep breath. His heart had begun to pound in his ears, and his mouth felt very dry.

"One...two...three...MARK!" He cried out, popping out of cover. Now he was facing the hotel directly, and he could see something scurrying about the upper floors. He fired in short bursts, watching how his shots knocked off pieces of masonry. It was working, though, as the gunfire subsided from the upper floors. In the corner of his eye, he could see the squad and his friends rush across the open street and into the hotel. More bluish-yellow flashes could be seen as they entered.

Nihil clicked empty, causing Herman to quickly rush forward and dive behind a fallen section of the hotel's wall. Spurts of dust kicked up all around him. Slowly, he crawled through the rubble even as bullets smashed into the terrain around him. Eventually, he reached the comforting darkness of the hotel entrance, where he rested a bit, basking in the coolness of the interior. Moving through the dark interior, he kept Nihil at the ready. There were Faunus corpses everywhere, bearing signs of battle. One was an unrecognizable bloody mess, its bones jutting out of its melted knees. Another was in its final death-throes, grasping an arrow firmly embedded in its neck. Still others lay sprawled, with bullet wounds riddling their corpses. In the middle of all this, only one Atlesian corpse lay face-down.

Herman's wolf ears perked up at the sound of tearing. It seemed to be coming from behind the counter. He drew closer, the wet sounds of chewing growing louder. A bone snapped. Something could be heard fizzling and crackling. In the darkness, Herman could see red stains on the counter, which bore claw marks.

Herman leapt over the counter and found himself facing a Grimm, which was astride a White Fang member's corpse, on which a radio was strapped. It was a pathetic little quadruped, with toady eyes and thick black lips, from which a few golden-red feathers hung. It blinked its little filigreed eyes before extending its mouth, revealing a solid wall of alabaster teeth. Something darted out from within, and a pink wet thing wrapped around Herman's arm and began to drag him forward. Herman was jerked off balance, but before he could be dragged into those heavy jaws he thrust Nihil forward, firing fully automatic into the beast's mouth. It squealed, and the tongue wrapped around Herman's hand loosened and fell with a wet thwack.

The radio began to hiss and crackle once more. Detaching the device from its previous owner, Herman pressed it against his ear. Across a sea of static, he could barely make some words out.

"Can you hear me? Delta One? Come in, Delta One, come in." The radio crackled. Playing along, Herman spoke.

"This is Delta One reporting."

"Oh, thank Oum. Delta One, the hotel SAM site has been breached-"

"Hold on. Who is this?" Another voice came, this one low and raspy. Herman swallowed nervously. It seemed like his ruse was up. The older voice had ceased speaking.

"Identify yourself." The raspy voice commanded. Herman sighed, before answering. His ruse was clearly up, so he might as well respond in style.

"Private Herman Grauer, formerly of Alpha Pack. I'm here to make you motherless bastards regret your attack, and I will not stop until I have hurled the stinking corpse of your Commander into Hell." Herman growled in his best Spruce Willis impression, though internally he wondered if he should have said something else. Ah, well. He was never good at improv acting.

For what felt like a century, he stood there, feeling like an ass until the sudden crackling-suspiciously resembling laughter-stooped.

"Tarry a little, traitor." Came the raspy voice. "This is Commissar Petrenko Zheeliyony. I assure you, I will not stop until I have delivered your filthy head to the Supreme Commander himself. Retreat, and you might live, for our force is unstoppable. You cannot resist the will of Faunuskind."

"Blindly murdering everyone? Is that what the Faunus want, or just what Commander Taurus has brainwashed you into believing?"

"Everything we do is for the betterment of Faunus kind." Herman looked at the Faunus corpse at his feet, violated by the Grimm. He felt his blood boil. Something twitched behind his right eye "Of course, a traitor such as you would never understand that." Herman threw down the radio and stomped on it.

Betterment of the Faunus, indeed.

He strode up the stairs, towards the sounds of battle ringing out from above. There was a battery of SAM missile launchers along with a full communications array. A large number of White Fang soldiers were also there, locked in combat with the group. Oliva fired off a few grenades at the SAM battery, causing huge detonations to erupt along the roof. Heidi disarmed one opponent before hurling him at three others, bowling the lot down. Meanwhile, Beckendorf cowered in the relative safety of the doorway, occasionally popping off a shot.

"So you finally grace us with your presence?" He said upon noticing Herman. The reindeer shook his head. "What are you waiting for? Go and get them!" Herman needed no further encouragement. Switching Nihil back to its chainsword form, he charged out, shoulder barging the first opponent to rush him before bringing Nihil's hilt down upon another thug's face, cracking the mask he wore.

A sudden revving made Herman swing around. A large, beefy thug slowly advanced, dragging his chainsword along, towards Herman.

"Hmph. Seems like a traitor will have to do." He raised his own chainsword.

Herman raised Nihil, slowly circling round his opponent. He charged and swung Nihil down low, towards the opponent's waist. Chainsword met chainsword, and now the two had their blades locked, teeth tracks whirring and gnashing against each other, sending sparks flying everywhere. The two struggled to push against one another's force, resulting in the thug's chainsword being pushed back to the thug himself, who then exerted greater force and pushed Nihil dangerously close to Herman, who naturally pushed back. On and on they went, with the battle raging all around them, but neither could triumph over each other. Roaring in frustration, he kicked the thug in the stomach, or would have if the thug did not kick back at the same time, ensuring that their boots met each other midair. Simultaneously they leapt back, shockwaves travelling up their respective legs and spines. Herman made a few quick slashes with the Taijitu style; the opponent responded in kind. The chainsword wielding thug tried the Ursa Style; Herman parried the blows and attempted to feint, but his crafty opponent tried the same maneuver, resulting in both of them smacking each other in the face with their respective chainswords. If both did not have Auras, they would be half a head short.

Herman leapt back, rubbing his jaw. It wasn't a matter of skill levels or raw strength; it was that both combatants had been trained in similar styles. Neither could prevail over the other.

But Herman had one thing that the chainsword wielding thug did not have; backup. Looking round, he noticed the White Fang members were either killed or incapacitated, the SAM site little more than a burning, smoking heap. The squad had secured the site, with Lauton inspecting the communications equipment. The rest had secured various positions, periodically firing at Grimm. Backup seemed to be out of the window.

An arrow came hurtling through the air, striking the thug in the chest. It exploded, sending him flying backwards and into a corner. The thug's chainsword went clattering off as well. Herman looked round at Heidi, who stood there, arrow nocked.

"Was that Lieutenant too much for you to handle?" She asked, her tail wagging round playfully. Herman could only smile.

"Alright, evac ought to arrive in fifteen minutes!" Captain Lauton called out.

"Look out, Sir! Grimm, seven 'o' clock!" Oliva cried out, readying his weapon at the oncoming swarm. Beowulves and creeps had managed to scale the building and overcome the two defending soldiers there. Herman revved up Nihil, but spun to his left in alarm as he heard one of the Atlesians cry out in pain as an Alpha tore into him.

"More on our six and five! We're surrounded!"

"Gryphons!" The unfortunate Guardsman got snatched up by one of the damned creatures, and Herman had to roll out of the way when a few Nevermore quills peppered the roof.

Looking round, Herman positioned himself in the Gryphon Style. Heidi was at his side, and even Beckendorf was pressed up against him, weapon ready.

The beasts charged, but suddenly there was a great white flash of light, searing Herman's vision. He cried out in pain, dropping Nihil and clapping his hands round his eyes. He could hear the pained roars of the Grimm, intermingled with Oliva's bellows. Someone-a girl-was crying out in grief, a mighty cry that gradually drowned out all ambience.

 _Please, let it stop, let it stop, STOP IT, KILL WHOEVER'S SCREAMING SO FUCKING LOUD,_ was Herman;s last few disjointed thoughts before it all ended.


	25. Church

_Chapter 23: Church_

 _A few hours earlier_

From his vantage point on top of the plaza, Adam Taurus looked over the burning city, satisfied with his work.

For now.

"Commander." His aide called out. Adam put down his binoculars and slipped on his mask, which lay on the ledge before him. "Commissar Petrenko Zheeliyony wishes to speak with you."

"Send him up." His aide scurried off, and within a few minutes she returned with the Commissar, who sank to one knee before Adam.

"My Lord. Fear and anarchy reign supreme. The Grimm run amok, and the defending forces have been splintered. Beacon has also fallen. The day is yours, Sir." He rasped. Adam nodded, and motioned at Zheeliyony to rise.

"Well done, Commissar Zheeliyony. I commanded, and you did not disappoint. But now, I have another task for you." Momentarily, Adam saw shock appear on the Commissar's face, quickly replaced with a stoic expression.

"I am but a servant of Faunus kind." He intoned dutifully.

"I have been summoned to Menagerie, by Supreme Leader Sienna. I shall no longer be able to oversee our continued operations in Vale."

"Continued operations, my Lord?"

"Just as Mountain Glenn sheltered us until we were strong enough to strike against Vale, I believe the ashes of this city could prove to be a valuable base of operations, a haven to seek refuge in should we ever need to retreat. After all, who would go poking about a dead city, infested with Grimm?"

"Yes, my Lord. But what does this have to do with me?"

"I require you to lay the foundations of our new base. You shall have two rifle companies; a support company and I'll even give you a few Paladins." Adam couldn't help but smirk when he saw the Commissar tremble slightly.

"Your will shall be carried out, my Lord." The Commissar took Adam's extended hand in his own, scaly ones and bent over, pressing his chapped lips to Adam's knuckle. Adam sighed and withdrew his hand.

"Do not fail me, Zheeliyony." Adam commanded, before turning back to his vantage point.

"Never, my Lord." The Commissar whispered. His heart raced with excitement, intermixed with traces of doubt and fear. Taking a deep breath, he raised his scaled hand once more. On his right index finger, against the green scales, a thin gold ring shone. Staring at the engraved calligraphy upon the ring, Zheeliyony felt his confidence return.

"Everything I do is for the Faunus." He said, before the shining white light engulfed his vision.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Herman didn't know when the screaming stopped. When the blinding light finally cleared, he found himself on the very same rooftop, with Heidi, Beckendorf, Oliva, Lauton, and one other Atlesian soldier. The only difference was that all the Grimm were gone and the sky was overcast, indicating that they had been lying there for quite a while.

Wearily, he blinked a few times, trying to get the screaming out of his mind. He was certain that a girl had been crying out that night. Perhaps it was another ghost from the past.

He shook his head at the thought, before stretching out to grab Nihil, which lay whirring softly by his side. The teeth tracks scraped across the rough floor, sending little chunks flying everywhere. Switching the tracks off, he looked round at his companions, who were only beginning to recover.

"Ughhh...what just happened?" Heidi asked, gingerly rubbing her head. She looked at Herman, who just shrugged.

"Did you hear some girl crying out?" Beckendorf was the next to awaken.

"Whatever happened, we've got to get back to the airfield." Lauton ordered, Oliva and the other Atlesian soldier standing morose by his side. Herman pulled Beckendorf up, and then Heidi, before heading down to the streets.

An unnatural silence reigned over the cratered streets and burnt-out buildings, a stark contrast to the chaos of last night. The previously fortified plaza junction was little more than a mess of sandbags and barbed wire, with broken weaponry littered everywhere, their hapless owners strewn about. The tank had been overturned, its frontal hull punctured. A few Grimm snuffled about the wreckage but took no notice of the party.

"Look at all this...will there even be an airfield to return to?" Beckendorf muttered as they headed down a narrow side alley. Oliva and Lauton along with the remaining Atlesian took the front, Beckendorf and Herman the rear. Heidi was in the center, bow readied at airborne threats.

A dark shadow swept over them.

"Shit! Into the building', quick!" Oliva kicked open the fire escape, motioning at the rest to rush in. A Nevermore had just sighted them, but it was unable to get at them, because the two apartment blocks had been built closely together. It squawked in frustration and clawed at them through the gap between the two buildings.

Before it could attract any more Grimm to their location, the crew rushed in, Oliva entering last. He motioned to keep moving. Captain Lauton and Herman advanced down the hallway weapons ready. Outside they could hear gunfire, punctuated by beeping.

"That's got to be our robots. Stay low, we can't afford a gunfight right now." The captain ordered, and all did as he bid. They crouched past a few windows, before finally entering the shattered reception. From the looks of it, this place had certainly been packed on the night of the attack. Still, Herman pinched his nose and moved on, trying to ignore the thick swarms of flies buzzing about, not to mention the smell.

Death had become no stranger to him, but his heart still froze when his eyes settled upon woman's body, lying atop a tiny pink carrier of sorts. In her clenched fist she held a broken rattler, the little beads within spilling out. Drawing his breath, he increased his pace. The gunshots seemed to get louder with ever step taken.

Suddenly, as they exited the lobby and entered the open street, the gunshots ended.

Herman peeked around a green convertible, only to stare right at an Atlesian robot. Its red light glowed intensely as it dragged itself along on one arm, dragging the rest of its destroyed body towards him, dribbling colorless fluids behind it. Before it could shuffle an inch forward, a Beowulf seized the robot in its mighty jaws, viciously swinging its head back and forth, like a dog would do to a toy. Metal crunched and circuits burnt out, prompting the Beowulf to hurl the robot at a wall with one last swing. It growled and sniffed at the air, and Herman tried not to succumb to the chills running down his spine.

During this little display the rest of the group had managed to keep their emotions in check and shuffle up the street. However, Oliva's large frame was not easily concealed, and the sun happened to shine through the clouds. The metal straps of his ammo-pack glinted, and Herman saw the Beowulf perk up. It scraped its feet, ready to pounce. Herman felt icy fingers grip his heart. If it noticed them, no doubt it would attract more to their position.

Suddenly, it halted, and Herman could feel its eyes drilling right past his little hiding spot and into him. He unsheathed Nihil, keeping his finger on the switch.

It howled and leapt atop the convertible, crushing the vehicle beneath its weight. Herman rolled to the left, barely missing its swing, and as he drove the now buzzing Nihil into the beast, he noticed many more Grimm down the street, of many different kinds. And they certainly saw him.

Just as he thought the situation couldn't get any worse, the ground began to shake. It was periodic, with regular intervals every five seconds. The intensity of the shaking grew with each minute, and the Grimm at the very end of the street had frozen momentarily. At the very end of the street, a massive, shaggy beast turned the corner. It was as high as the four-story apartment they had exited, and it sported a trunk and a pair of tusks accompanying its spiked bone armor. It raised its trunk and began to trumpet.

The Grimm let out a collective roar and began to charge down the street, easily mantling vehicles, fallen lamp posts, rubble and whatnot. The massive tusker was deceptively fast; in the second it took for Herman to switch Nihil to its LMG form and slam in a box of incendiary rounds, it had already reached halfway to his position. The Goliath's massive pillar of a foot landed on a double-decker bus, and completely flattened it.

"RUN!" Pedaling backwards, Herman raked the street with Nihil, riddling the closest Grimm with Dust Rounds. The smaller ones took half a dozen before falling, while Herman had to expend half his ammunition on the larger ones. A few arrows whistled into their ranks, detonating deep within the dark tide, and a few grenade shells also blasted massive holes in the advancing tide. Yet these were only momentary; for every one that fell, ten more crawled out from within buildings, or leapt down from above, or entered the massive stampede through side alleys. Above, Herman could see the dark shapes of Nevermore and Gryphons.

Herman slashed at a few Creeps which landed next to him before turning tail and running along with the rest.

"Where the hell do we go now!" Heidi cried out, but not before a Grimm landed right in front of her. Without hesitation, she buried Gratia Venti into the Beowulf's chest and jerked the blades upwards, carving through the beast's hairy chest and throat.

"Jus' keeps runnin '!" Oliva bellowed, turning around to fire at the tide of Grimm.

They rushed through a crowded traffic junction, where even more Grimm were snuffling about the crashed vehicles. Raising their heads to look at the newcomers, they were caught off guard by the massive stampede, allowing the group to easily rush past them. In the distance, Herman could just make out a single tall spire. As they got closer, however, their hopes of escape were dashed.

The path ahead was blocked by two-or Oum knew how many- collapsed buildings. They had fallen in such a manner that neither was completely on the ground; instead, both had fallen towards each other and intercepted each other's collapse, forming a sort of upside-down V. A massive transport Bullhead lay lodged in the midst of the wreckage, its massive bulk teetering about in the epicenter of the rubble. The spire towered over the rubble, gleaming white and seemingly untouched amidst the destruction

They slowed to a halt, unable to accept the sight that lay before them. The stampede itself had generated a massive shaking, one which grew larger with every passing moment.

Taking a deep breath, Beckendorf was the first to turn around, weapon raised.

"It's over. But I'm not going down that easy."

He spoke for all of them. They all turned around to face the advancing horde. Lauton slammed in a fresh mag. Oliva readied his launcher. The Atlseian soldier pressed his weapon to his shoulder. Heidi nocked her last five arrows. Herman raised Nihil.

"To the last man, and the last round." Jack Lauton called out, resignated but firm.

They opened fire, mowing down countless Grimm. Yet their bullets didn't seem to affect the central Goliath, and Oliva's grenades seemed to irritate it.

The horde was getting very close.

Herman switched Nihil to its chainsword form, revving up the weapon. Heidi split Gratia Venti into its two-bladed form. Beckendorf, out of ammunition, hefted his assault rifle like a club. Oliva drew a serrated knife out of a sheath on his hip, while Lauton and the Atlesian fixed bayonets to their rifles.

The beasts at the very forefront howled in victory and leapt forth.

Herman suddenly felt as if the temperature had risen.

 _'You're gonna die, and that's the last thing you think about? The weather? What are you, the Atlesians?'_

A sudden golden steam of flame poured out from above them, dousing the Grimm in flame. The victorious roars of the beasts became pained howls, and the entire group leapt back as the jet-no, jets-of golden-red flame bathed the horde. Something small and circular went soaring through the air, and landed right in the midst, atop the Goliath.

The resulting explosion shook Herman's entire perception. He could only watch as the beasts floundered about in the inferno. Sweat trickled down his face as he stepped out of the of one such beast, clawing at its burning body.

In the midst of the fire, the Goliath, now engulfed in flames, charged right at them. It trumpeted in pain and agony as it charged, and Herman rolled out of the way as it went charging past him.

It smashed right into the rubble, sending its tusks all the way into the masonry. Now locked in place, it could only trumpet as the fire consumed its body. The massive shaggy beast thrashed about intensely, causing cracks to appear and rubble to be dislodged from the fallen buildings. One large piece of concrete was shuffled out of position, and everyone watched as it landed right on the Goliath's head with a _crunch_ , ending its struggle.

As for the rest of the tide, they had either been completely engulfed in the fire or had literally turned tail and run. The rest of the airborne Grimm swirled round in the air, kept at bay by the ever-growing flame. The group looked upwards, mystified by their savior.

The rear hatch of the Bullhead had opened up, and they could make out three figures. Suddenly, one leapt down from above, and glided downwards, the sun reflecting off his dove-white wings. As he got closer, they could see that he wore a studded vest of toughened leather upon a pure-white cloak, embroidered in gold. He wielded dual submachine guns, each with a dual pair of gracefully curved bayonets attached.

He landed in the midst of them, leaving everybody dumbfounded. Despite his gentle gait and graceful movements, his face, which once upon a time could be called cherubic, was as worn and rough as a brick. Herman could see that the back of his robe had deep slits, to allow his wings to sprout through.

"Greetings, brothers and sister." he said, his soft voice nothing like his physique and face. Lauton raised his hand, kneeling as he did so. Oliva and the Atlesian soldier did the same, leaving Herman to look at Heidi and Beckendorf, who were still standing. They seemed to be as bewildered as he was.

"Come quickly, for the beasts shall return."

Six ropes landed in the ground next to them, and they looked up to see the other two figures attaching pitons and tackle.

"I shall see you up there." and just like that, the priest flew upwards. Wordlessly, they grabbed onto the ropes and secured them round their waists.

They were slowly pulled up the side of the wrecked buildings, each jerk sending a jolt up Herman's stomach. Halfway through, he began to scrape against the side of the building.

Oh well, at least the view from up here was alright.

Finally, they were pulled aboard the crashed Bullhead, where the winged priest stood, along with another monk, who wore a masked hood. She, or he wore a silvery-white carapace atop amethyst-colored robes, which culminated in a series of pleats around his/her ankles. In her left hand he (Herman decided upon calling the monk a 'he' for now) grasped a long thin pole, with a spade-like blade on one end and a smaller, crescent-like blade on the other end. Along its purple shaft, Herman could see a golden-plated trigger mechanism.

But the most imposing figure in the darkened Bullhead was the knight, clad in golden plate and chainmail the color of ebony. Beneath his gleaming armor he wore black robes, and in his hands was the instrument of their salvation; a golden, quad-barreled flamethrower, fashioned in the shape of a dragon's head. The Knight put away his mighty weapon and grasped his great helm, twisting it left, then right, before releasing it with a slight whoosh of air.

"Greetings, friends. I am Father Solarus, head priest of the Church of Saint Oum." His (kindly?) smile exposed a row of gleaming teeth, in stark contrast against his dark skin.

Once more Lauton, Oliva and the Atlesian dropped to their knees, and this time Herman couldn't help it. He too dropped to his knees and motioned at his friends to do the same. The Father let out a chuckle.

"Rise, my children. I know you must be very tired after running for so long. Come with me to the church, so we may rest together." Then, he extended his golden gauntlet in a reassuring gesture.

"You are safe now."


	26. HQ

Chapter 24: HQ

The Father guided them down the collapsed building, pointing out weakened structures and floors. Upon reaching the bottom, they arrived at wide courtyard. Eight streets projected outwards from the courtyards in a compass-like arrangement, and all but the south street had been barricaded. Upon these barricades Herman could see various people standing guard, some armed with firearms, some with mere spears. None of them had the grandeur of the three monks.

The church lay in the center of the courtyard, a diamond-shaped domed structure with four tall spires on each corner, composed entirely of gleaming white marble. The overall exterior design had two layers; the topmost had states of various different saints carved from the marble, and the second layer was a series of stained-glass windows (equivalent in length, height, width and spacing).

Walking through the lush green garden encompassing the church, Herman felt as if they had arrived in some otherworldly location, far off from the anarchy that encompassed them mere moments ago.

They approached the large ornate church doors, which noiselessly swung open upon their approach. From within, another priest stepped out, clad in a rough spun brown cloak. In one withered, bony hand he held a prayer book, in the other he had a sawn-off double-barreled shotgun.

"Brother Ollanius! How is the flock?" The father raised his shining golden gauntlet in greeting. In response, the priest held up his own weapon, pointing skywards. The sleeve of his robe slipped down, revealing a stick-thin arm.

"Four attacks this morning, but with Saint Oum's blessing we held the accursed darkness at bay. None shall harm the faithful." Ollanius said, his glazed eyes roving over the approaching group.

"None shall harm the faithful." The three monks replied. Herman perked up when he heard the purple-clad monk speak in a lower, huskier tone than the other two.

"Remnant to Herman! Hello?" Herman was snapped back to reality by Heidi, who was waving her hand before his gaze. HE realized he had been standing there, while the party halted and waited for him to be done. Father Solarus didn't seem to mind; he just stood there, smiling. Herman felt his skin prickle every time he looked into Solarus's bright, golden-brown eyes.

"I understand. You are awed by the majesty of Saint Oum, and the devotion of his followers." He motioned at the rest to follow. "Come, rest on the prayer mats. Service shall begin in thirty minutes. Until then, you are free to do as you please. But first, remove your shoes and perform ablutions before entering the main hall." They did as he asked, first removing their footwear and them moving off to the left in the direction indicated by the Faunus-priest, where they soon found themselves in a room containing benches set before buckets.

Herman slowly tugged off his worn leather coffins and placed them in a row along with everyone else's. Fresh air flowed upon his blistered soles, easing the ache. Sitting before a bucket, Herman was woefully unaware of any proper procedure, and looked about helplessly.

"Look here, Herman. This way." Beckendorf noticed his plight and guided him through the procedure. Wrists first, then up to the elbows, then the face, followed by ears and hair and then finally the ankles and knees.

"Didn't know you were devout, 'Dorf." Herman said, gazing at the water in the bucket, which had turned black.

"Not really. Just recall a few things from when my old man used to take me to services, back in Menagerie." Beckendorf's tone indicated that he didn't want the discussion to continue. Having cleansed themselves, they returned to the main hall.

The interior was just as grand as the exterior. Calligraphy was etched into bands of colored marble, luxuriously sprawling all over the walls, like golden vines amongst white underbrush. Each stained-glass window told a story; on one Herman could see a cloaked figure bearing a torch, leading a pack of pale, starving refugees through a rift in the blue-green seas. On another he could see a spread-eagled figure being nailed to wall, a red trickle pouring out from his brown wrists into which steel-grey nails were driven by foul, twisted caricatures of human beings. Yet these humans looked different; their skin was a deathly pale, with dark veins contrasting against the skin and the color of their eyes was red. Yet another glass window depicted these very people standing with the Grimm, locked in mortal combat with the forces of Man and Faunus combined.

At the very far end, there was a stained-glass window, larger than the others. A robed figure clad in a blanket of light was depicted standing upon a mountaintop. In both hands he had grasped Dust Crystals, of varying colors and shape, presented towards the viewer. At his feet there were four women, each with their own distinctive hues worked into the glass; one was light blue, the other green, one was purple and the last woman was orange.

Herman had absolutely no clue what all that meant.

Other people were beginning to enter the hall; it was then Herman realized that they and the monks were not the only occupants. Tattered civilians were huddled about in little groups. The children of both Faunus and Man ran about, gibbering and squeaking. The entire scene seemed ludicrous; only yesterday Beacon had fallen, yet in the midst of death there lay a paradise of life.

How? Herman felt decidedly uneasy. Yet, against his will his legs gave out and he slid down against the wall and onto the cushiony mat. The rest also decided to sit, forming their own circle.

"Well, this place seems fortified." The Atlesian solider finally spoke up. Oliva grunted in agreement. Lauton was deep in thought, tugging at his moustache.

"Do my eyes deceive me, or are those some Guardsmen?" Everyone looked to where Lauton was staring. Yes indeed, fifteen men, clad in the signature khakis of the Vale Guard were there kneeling before an altar.

"Thompson, go ask those men where they came from, and what's the current situation." Lauton ordered. The Atlesian soldier, Thompson, dutifully walked over and waited till they were done. After talking to the leader, Thompson returned.

"They say that they're from the 3rd Guards Rifles Division, stationed to the South of Vale, in the agricultural district. Apparently, their HQ is set up over there, and they've made the trip here."

"We'll go with them. Do they plan to stay for service?"

"Yes sir."

"Might as well stick around." Lauton decided. Herman could not object, but his blood ran cold when the Captain turned around and looked Herman directly in the eye.

"As for you, you'll be coming with us. I don't know what you did to me back at the airfield, but I recall that you weren't meant to be here with us." Herman stared back at Lauton, trying to keep his expression blank. It wasn't easy, as everyone was now looking at him. He didn't like that prickly feeling, of everyone's eyes judging every decision he made.

"You'll have your answers, Captain. In due time." Lauton only scowled at Herman's reply. Stiffly, he turned away and faced the pulpit.

More worshippers were entering, and soon they had to sit in rows. After a little while, the interior of the church was packed. The general hubbub of voices died down when Father Solarus, accompanied by Ollanius, the Faunus-Priest and the Purple Priest entered. She had removed her hood, revealing a dark-skinned woman with shoulder-length milk-white hair. She glided past the pulpit and sat down at a massive pipe organ located to the right of the pulpit.

"Greetings, true believers." Father Solarus's voice reverberated with unbridled passion and intensity. "Before Brother Gabriel commences his reading from the Holy Passages, I would like to say a few words." The organ began, punctuating each time Solarus paused.

"Today, our great city has suffered utter annihilation at the claws of the dark hordes. Many have fallen in its defense, and even Beacon, our ward against evil, has become little more than a nesting ground for monsters. All of us have suffered greatly." A civilian in front of Herman buried his head in his hands and began to sob. Yet Solarus continued on. "These are trying times for us all, so allow me to tell a story from the times Man and Faunus kind was in its infancy. When the Elder Brother abandoned us, the Moon was rent asunder, and sections of it crashed into Remnant. This was one last gift to our species, for these heavenly fragments contained our most potent weapons; Sacred Dust. At this time, our united kin were preyed upon by the Grimm, their situation not unlike ours. Yet the devout amongst them kept their faith, a torch of hope amongst the overwhelming void. And so, led by our Saint, they fought back and triumphed against the evil hordes. I urge you, my children, to keep faith. To hope. To pray. For deliverance-" The priest spread his arms, his voice filling the hall as the organ reached fever pitch "-shall come."

Silence. The civilian in front of Herman had quit crying.

"Amen." He said and thumped his chest. This was reciprocated by the other worshippers, and soon the hall was a chorus of 'Amen' and chest-thumping.

Herman still had no clue what this was all about. It was an inspiring story, but he found a few things hard to believe. Why'd the 'Elder Brother' bugger off, and leave humanity and Faunus kind to the Grimm? What kind of all-powerful deity did that? What kind of Deity would let the Grimm live?

Who the hell were the pale, beastly people depicted in the stained-glass windows?

The Faunus-Priest had brought out a little red book, embroidered in gold lace, and had begun chanting in some other language, to the tune of the church organ. Solarus had disappeared off-stage, and now the congregation was chanting along with the priest. It was then when Herman noticed that all of them were being encapsulated in a sheen of golden-white light, himself included. Suddenly, he felt very hot, leading to him undoing his Sherwani's top button. The heat was not unpleasant, it was merely odd. In fact, he was feeling a lot better. He wasn't fatigued any more, and it felt a lot more comfortable now, like slipping into a blanket.

Suddenly, the sensation ended as it had begun, with the organ playing its final tones to the priest's final lines. He snapped the book shut and left along with the purple-clad priestess. Apparently, this meant services were over; a great number of the congregation began to leave.

"Come along now." Lauton ordered, and they made their way to the Guardsmen. The sergeant amongst them stood up and saluted the approaching Atlesian Captain, who returned the gesture.

"Greetings. I'm Captain Lauton of the 3rd Infantry Division, and I hear you men are heading back to HQ?"

"Yessir. We're in charge of escorting the refugees back. The rest of our Company is outside, guarding the route from the church to the HQ."

"Wasn't the HQ back at the airfield in the Western District?"

"It was, sir. But it got overrun, and the surviving command staff along with everyone else retreated to the Agricultural District."

"I see. Well, let's get moving then."

They left the church and headed down the south street. It was a narrow street, with all its side alleys blockaded and buildings garrisoned by infantrymen. Herman could see that anti-aircraft platforms and spotlights had been set up on the rooftops.

The surroundings gave way to flatter land, inundated by link canals stretching far off into the distance. When they reached the bridge across the Canal, Herman noted how the embankment on the far side had been fortified with machine-gun posts, anti-armor guns, and artillery batteries. Multiple Guardsmen were digging trenches while others filled out sandbags and strung out barbed wires. In the distance they could see the outline of three or four buildings surrounded by multiple tents.

They moved to right in order to avoid a few tanks heading in the same direction as they were. All of them were in poor shape, bearing deep gauges in their armor. One had its main gun snapped in half, leaving a jagged stump of a barrel.

As they reached a trench where half-a-dozen men were digging away, General Gaunt stepped out, his sleeves rolled up and up to his forearms in mud. Immediately all of the Guardsmen, as well as the Atlesians saluted. His hollow, bloodshot eyes lingered upon Herman and his friends for a moment, before he spoke.

"At ease. Captain Lauton, wasn't it?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Follow me. You're the highest ranking Atlesian soldier in the area right now, and I have some important information for you. The rest-" He looked at the Guardsmen "-get to work!"

Herman decided to tag behind the General and Lauton, who were embroiled in conversation.

"So, what about us?" Heidi asked.

"Guess we'll just tag along." Herman replied.

Meanwhile, Captain Jack Lauton was trying to deal with the fact that the entire Atlesian Army had just up and left Vale.

"We retreated? We left this city to its fate?"

"Not exactly all of you. Most of your personnel are in the city, gunning down everything that moves." The Captain bristled at this jibe at their Knights and Paladins, but he couldn't refute it.

"General, I'm also in the dark as you are. I have no idea how or why our soldiers turned-"

"Spare me the excuses. What matters now is making do with what we've got." The General interrupted.

"What do you have at your disposal, Sir?"

"Hard to tell. We lost contact with many units last night, and our outlying garrisons and bases were overrun by swarms of Grimm. Quarter of our fleet got wiped out when your ship crashed into the port, and our only aircraft carrier was out at sea, on a training mission before communications were cut. Your Paladins severely decimated our armored core, to the point where we have seventy or so tanks remaining."

"What about the Hunters?"

"That's exactly where we've set up a base of operations. The Huntsmen have set up a base, the very one you see ahead of you." They had reached the base. Multiple huntsmen and huntresses were scurrying about, attending to various tasks. Through this crowd (If twelve or thirteen hunters could be called a crowd) a young woman came marching towards the General. She too, wore an officer's uniform and held a stack of files.

"Well, that counts for something." Lauton mused, stroking his moustache.

"I doubt it'll be enough to take back the entirety of Vale. Now, if you don't mind Captain, I have to attend to some matters" The general said with a finality that spelled the end of the conversation. Before he could reply, the General had walked off to his officer and had engaged her in conversation. She then saluted and turned her attention to the group.

Herman would never forget her reaction when she saw him. Immediately she dropped her files, attracting stares. Flustered, she bent down to grab the documents and her hat fell off, exposing her nut-brown hair tied up in a little bun. To her credit, one she collected her items she shrugged off all the people staring at her and marched onwards, regaining her calm once more.

"What are you looking at! Get back to work, this city isn't going to save itself!" She shouted, snapping everyone back into their routine. Still, Herman cold see how her eyes brimmed with hatred as she looked at him. He felt his hackled rise.

"I have the feeling she doesn't like you." Heidi whispered.

"Herman, didn't your mother tell you not to break a young girl's heart?" Beckendorf half-jokingly whispered to Herman, but he immediately shut up when Herman angrily glared back.

"Captain Lauton. The General has ordered me to take you your bunks. He apologizes for having you sleep in the barracks, but as you see, we're a bit sort on space." She said through gritted teeth all while giving Herman an evil look.

If there was a 10-point scale for such looks, she'd be scoring 8.5 points.

"That's not the issue. I want to know when I can rejoin my unit."

"Currently the evacuation route is being prepared. Hopefully by the end of this month we can provide you, and many others safe transport back to Atlas."

"Many others? You mean there are more Atlesian soldiers here?"

"Not only soldiers. There were a good many citizens in the city when the attack occurred, and they are currently in the tent south-east of the main building." Lauton was about to go along before a thought came to him.

"What about him?" He pointed at Herman. Suddenly, the officer stiffened up even more.

"I believe it is under your jurisdiction. You do as you please with it. Now if you will, follow me." She spat out. Now Herman was mad.

"Who the fuck are you calling 'it', lady?" Herman retorted before he could stop himself. Her eyes narrowed even more, before speaking to Lauton.

"Have you no control over your convict? Why does it still have its weapon?" Again, before Lauton could speak Herman interjected.

"Speak to me when I'm speaking to you." Herman's tone had become more aggressive. The officer gave him a cursory glance.

"Be thankful you're not under my command, filthy beast. I'd have you executed in a heartbeat for your crimes." Her condescending manner was grating on him. With a swift, practiced action he unsheathed Nihil and revved her up. The guttural screeching of the whirring teeth was sweet music to his ears, and it gave pause to all of the huntsmen again, who were drawing their own weapons. Heidi stepped next to him, Gratia Venti at the ready.

"What is going on here?" The commanding, imperious voice of Glynda Goodwitch turned heads towards her and her retinue consisting of Professor Port and Oobleck.

"Madam." The officer's entire demeanor changed. Now she was crouching and subservient to the huntress. "This convict here, this murderer was about to attack me. I urge you-" She was cut off when Goodwitch held up her hand.

"He'll be coming with me. His friends too, for General Ironwood had agreed with Ozpin that they should be under our jurisdiction. Now, take the good captain to his fellow Atlesians. Herman, you will be coming with me. Sheathe your weapon."

Herman did as he was told, slipping Nihil back into his sheathe. That was not difficult to do, but it was difficult to see the officer's gloating face before she left with the Atlesians. For a brief second Herman had an image of smashing Nihil into that face, again and again, until noting but red pulp and white fragments remained...

He blinked. Goodwitch was standing there, waiting for him to be done.

"You okay, Herman?" Heidi asked. He shook his head before wordlessly following Goodwitch into the HQ.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The assassin crept through the silent streets and dead alleyways. Slowly, methodically, he made his way to the barrier blockading the end of the alley. Beyond that he could hear conversation and idle chatter.

He pressed up against the building, his hands feeling all over for something to grip onto. His hands passed over ledges, pits in the walls, little corners on which he could find purchase. Deftly, he flung himself up, scarpering up like a cat. In mere seconds he had pulled himself over the top.

There were three Guardsmen, two manning the anti-aircraft gun and one on a spotlight, facing away from him.

Fools. There should have been six more. But the assassin knew they had taken far too many losses in the attack last night and were stretched thin.

It made his job easier. He drew his knives.

Three seconds passed, three knives thrown, three men dead. Extracting his knife from the Guardsman's back, he dragged the bodies over to the ledge and kicked them off to the Grimm waiting below. Now he would have to move fast, for they would surely check up on the men once they stopped responding to their radio. As he pulled out a satchel charge from his backpack, excitement welled up inside of him. Soon he'd get revenge.

He loved his job.

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

 **I'm really sorry for the delay. I was, and still am stuck in exam preperations (SAT on the 10th, school exams on the 19th). I've also been struggling with some personal issues. Once again, I'm sorry for my upload schedule. I will try my best to maintain a regular schedule once I am done with my exams.**


	27. Allies

Chapter 25

"What are you even doing here?" Goodwitch looked awful. She had dark shadows underneath her eyes, stress lines prominent on her forehead and cheeks, and Herman's sensitive nose was being violated by the assortment of scents that came from her, none of them pleasant. Well, except for that little trace of flowery perfume, that was nice.

They were seated in a spacious yet barely furnished office. The only furniture was a gleaming black teakwood table, four chairs made from the same wood, and a small purple vase set upon a ledge beneath a window. To his right there was a smaller table and an office chair, which was occupied by a man dressed in pinstriped slacks and vest. He was hunched over a massive-looking scroll, his long, pointed face barely inches away, his fingers a blur on the holographic screen which periodically emitted a series of metallic 'pings'. Every once in a while, he'd lean back, yawn and scratch at the series of banded overlapping grey scales on his throat, cheeks and neck.

Herman looked back at Glynda. He really didn't have anything to say. She looked at Heidi, expecting an answer.

"We followed him." Glynda let out an impatient sigh, before mustering an imperious, commanding look.

"I won't ask again. What are you doing here? This is no place for a child-"

"Listen here, lady." Herman retorted. He was still angry about the General's aide, and given all he had been through, being called a child rankled. "I stayed here because I have nowhere else to go. Everyone had caring families to run back to, homes to take shelter in. But I don't have that luxury. My parents are dead, and my home is ashes. No one could give a shit about me, well, except for those Atlesians and they want my body dangling from a noose as justice for a massive fuckup I caused. If I die here, so much the better, because it'll save them the trouble of a trial, and anyway, as I said before, no one cares about me."

Goodwitch was speechless. The Faunus had quit typing.

"That sounds really, really emo. In fact, I could've sworn I nearly cut myself." Beckendorf said. Herman ignored him.

But Goodwitch was not speechless for long.

"Boy, I do not know who you are, but I do know this; you need to grow up. You claim that you are the only one suffering, but you only need to look outside, in the refugee camps to see that others have also been dealt a bad hand. You want redemption? Move on and get it-because whining will get you nowhere."

"I... I could have run away. But I stayed here to fight and redeem myself. That's my objective; I either atone for what I've done or die in the attempt." He said, much chastened by her reprimand.

Herman felt a metal hand resting gently on his shoulder. "We wouldn't be standing by your side if you had no-one to care about you. I understand, but bad things have happened to all of us. What matters now is rising above our circumstances."

Herman took a deep breath

"You need to calm down." Heidi said, her voice soft yet firm. "We care about you Herman, but you have to realize that bad things have happened to all of us. What matters now is our actions, and what we do to rise above our circumstances."

"Thank you, young lady." Goodwitch said, relieved.

Herman hung his head, partly embarrassed from his outburst.

"I..uh, well..." His voice trailed off.

"It's ok. You need a moment." Heidi removed her hand and sat back down.

Suddenly, a thought popped into his mind.

" ? Where's Sir Ozpin?" Herman was taken aback by the immediate look of distress that materialized on her face. Suddenly, he felt as if his feet had been submerged in ice. His heart felt heavy, and it hammered with such an intensity that it felt as if it would burst out at any second. The unspoken word hung between the two.

"The Professor is..." The pounding had reached his ears. He couldn't take it anymore.

"Dead?" He mouthed. Goodwitch sadly nodded.

Herman felt as if a pit had swallowed him whole. He had lost a valuable ally. Something nasty began to whisper in his mind.

 _"Anyone who trusts you dies. Anyplace that takes you in is destroyed._ "

"No, no, no..." Herman's vision was blurred. Dark clouds began to form. His eyes burned, and the world slowly drained of color save for blue and grey.

"Friedman?" Goodwitch called out to the Faunus beside them. "Would you please take these children to the medical bay?"

There was a knock on the door.

"That would be Operative Aurum, ma'am." Friedman said. Herman could barely hear him. Shaking his head, he turned around just as Friedman opened the door.

Standing there was that very blond-haired and blue eyed operative from Atlas. Even though he wore a bandanna the last time they fought, he could recognize those eyes, gleaming with hate. His very presence dispelled the gray-blue haze clouding his vision.

"Motherfucker!" Herman barely had time to react as the specialist rushed him and barged him into a wall. In the blink of an eye, the specialist had his dagger-pistol at Herman's throat.

"Operative Aurum! What are you doing!?" Goodwitch cried out. She stood there, riding crop raised. Port and Oobleck had rushed into the room, and Heidi had her bow raised. Meanwhile, Beckendorf had grabbed the vase and was posed, ready to chuck it at the mad specialist.

That wasn't Herman's concern, however. He was staring back at the mask of hatred the man contorted his dirt-streaked boyish face into. The cold blade was close to his neck, digging in slightly. Something warm trickled down his throat.

"What am I doing? Perhaps I ought to ask what are you doing? Harboring a terrorist, a murderer!" His breath stank, and his B.O. was overwhelming, like rotten flesh mixed with syrup.

"Operative, stand down." Goodwitch commanded him, but his crazed eyes were focused on Herman. Drool ran from his lower lip.

The purple vase smashed against his head, causing the operative to cry out and release his grip. With no time to lose, Herman kicked upwards and hit Aurum squarely in the groin. The crazed man staggered back, squealing in pain, before a massive purple force slammed him down on the floor.

"Operative Robert Aurum. This criminal is under our jurisdiction, and we decide what to do with him. The matter was settled by your General Ironwood. If you have any complaints, I suggest you take it up with him." Goodwitch flicked her whip and sent him skidding out. Aurum slammed against the wall and lay still.

"Friedman? I think you should take the operative to the medical bay instead." When Friedman left, Goodwitch turned her attention to Port and Oobleck, who made themselves comfortable in the chairs Heidi and Beckendorf had vacated.

"What's the current situation, Professors?" Glynda asked.

"Not good, Glynda. Grimm of all types are everywhere, and there are too few of us to make a difference. Most of the trainee hunters have evacuated." Port dejectedly muttered.

"Not to mention that there is still a large number of civilians still trapped in the city. They are easy prey for the Grimm, and to make matters worse, it seems if they aren't very happy with us. We were fired upon multiple times, but we could not determine the identity of our assailants." The normally fast-talking Oobleck was talking slowly, in between ragged breaths.

"Is there anything particularly wrong, Professor?" Goodwitch asked, one eyebrow raised in concern.

"Some of those assailants were extremely good shots. One in particular just kept stalking us, taking potshots from afar."

"Your assailants couldn't be anyone but the White Fang." Heidi cut in, prompting the three hunters to focus their attention on her.

"How could the White Fang still be here, young lady?" Port asked.

"We fought with them last night. They had set up a missile site on a hotel rooftop and were preventing the transports from taking off."

"The monsters." Oobleck said, shaking his head.

"That's not all. The White Fang have never let adverse conditions get in their way. Professor, you saw their base in Mountain Glenn, a deserted Grimm infested area. It would not be unreasonable for us to assume they would continue to operate from here as well, seeing as they already had a base here."

"Who exactly are you, young lady?" Goodwitch asked. Heidi gave her most winning smile.

"Why, I'm a member of the White Fang. We all were." Goodwitch didn't seem to be so surprised, but the shocked looks on Port and Oobleck's faces were priceless.

"Glynda, is this wise? These are enemy operatives!" Port cried out in alarm.

"Calm yourself, man. They would not have revealed themselves unless they were working with us." Oobleck reasoned.

"I can attest to that. These children-" Glynda surveyed the three "-can serve our purpose."

"Purpose?" Herman asked. His bandaged hand was at his throat, gently caressing the light cut. He was thinking about the bombing, about the incalculable suffering he had inflicted on others.

"You made your desire for redemption clear, did you not?"

"I did."

"Then this is how you'll earn it. Like it or not, you're now with us."

"Alright, so where do we get started?" The run-in with the operative only served to make Herman more determined.

"Very well. You can begin-" Goodwitch reached into the top left drawer of the table. Herman felt a buzz of excitement while his mind ran wild. Goodwitch pulled out a binder "-by delivering these files to our mechanic." She said as she pushed the binder into Herman's hands. In disbelief, he looked her in the eye.

She was definitely not joking.

"What are you waiting for? Get started." Herman could barely suppress a groan as he stalked out of the room.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Robert Aurum exited the med bay. His eyes felt watery, and they burnt. His ears felt as if steam would come shooting out at any moment. Firmly gripping his weapon, he staggered against the wall.

Robert Aurum tried to stifle a sob as the memories came flooding back. The cries of the dying were fresh in his ears, and the weight of his failure pressed down on his heart.

He was in charge of protecting those people. In charge of protecting Eva. And he failed.

Seeing that murderer-no, that animal-walk free served to rub more salt into the wound. His fists tightened.

"Is everything all right, Aurum?" Robert turned around to see Major Marrone. She approached carefully, her brown eyes full of concern.

"No." He curtly replied and turned away.

"Please, wait! I know what you're going through."

"Really? Then you should leave me alone." Robert hissed back.

"I know you had a run-in with that beast. The very sight of it walking free sickens me." Now she had got his attention.

"Why would you care? Have you lost everything because of it? Huh?" Aurum was getting angry now. He didn't need anyone's pity. Her audacity to claim that she knew what he was going through infuriated him. No-one knew what he was going through, not unless they experienced it for themselves.

"Yes." She said, softly. Her warm brown eyes were downcast. Robert stopped in his tracks.

"My husband and son were in that city." She continued. Robert now felt shame prick away at his heart. How could he have judged her so quickly?

"I'm sorry to hear that." he replied, in a low tone.

They stood in the darkened corridor. For some reason, Aurum felt strangely elated. In a sea of loneliness, he found another who shared his feelings. Life may not have become less harsh, but Aurum felt if it had become a little bit more bearable.

"What do you think we should do? The hunters won't let me near him." Robert broke the silence. She looked at him with steely determination in her eyes.

"Everything we can to bring this animal to justice."


	28. All Quiet

Herman walked out of the main building, having received directions to the motor pool. Fuming, he walked east of the building. He was a soldier, not a damn delivery boy.

When Herman passed by the barracks, he heard whimpering coming from behind the building. At the same time, he felt if someone was watching him. Herman looked back and saw a few Guardsmen.

Then he saw the specialist. He was at the very rear of the party, nonchalantly strolling along and making conversation. Still, Herman felt uneasy at the sight of him, so the Faunus decided to get a move on.

Herman walked by the rear of the barracks, where he was greeted by the source of the whimpering.

A soldier of the White Fang had been forced into a squatting position by five other Guardsmen. They had tied a board between his wrists and, his face was twisted in agony. Herman could only watch in horror as one of the Guardsmen pulled of the tortured Faunus's mask and tied a black sack around his neck. With deliberate slowness, another Guardsmen brought a gas canister and upturned over the prisoner, soaking the sack thoroughly. The Faunus writhed and screamed, but the Guardsmen kept pouring water onto his face, kicking him as he fell out of position.

One of the Guardsmen saw Herman, panicked and signaled his teammates. Immediately, the gas can was dropped, and their attention was now focused on him. Leering faces had switched to aggressive stares, daring him to do something about it.

Herman reached for Nihil, drawing it slowly towards the enemy, allowing him to rev it up menacingly. He felt his eyes burn, as color drained from the environment, yet he noticed that their legs were shaking. The burning moved slowly past his eye sockets and began to spread outwards. Now the world was almost entirely devoid of color, yet he saw the outlines of the men, burning brightly in various colors-while the Faunus lay on the ground, his color faint. Two more steps, three more revs.

" _Be sensible and run."_ Herman thought, just as the first man turned tail and ran, followed by the rest.

Herman felt a little rush of victory, but he couldn't savor it. Immediately pain shot up his chest and throat, bringing him to his knees. He coughed into his hand and was astonished at the sight of blood mixed with saliva.

Feeling a bit woozy, he got to his knees, picked up the binder and stumbled on. Perhaps he should have used Nihil instead.

Meanwhile, the Atlesian specialist tailed him, recording his every step. Herman noticed him-he wasn't exactly inconspicuous as he was dressed in black and gold garb-and quickened his pace.

Herman finally retched the motor pool, which was a small collection of shacks accompanied with one multi-door main workshop and a refueling station. Military vehicles were parked beneath corrugated iron sheds, being worked on by mechanics bearing the insignia of the Vale army.

Herman pushed on through the reek of oily smoke, heading towards the main building where there were a few heavy-duty civilian vehicles such as jeeps and trucks being modified for war. Thick slabs of steel plating had been welded to their chassis, with metal brackets bolted over the windows. A few had heavy caliber machine guns attached to the top. The workshop exuded a stench of grease and Fuel Dust, complimenting the clanging of hammers and whirring of drills.

Herman checked the name on the file; Ms. Aciero Darbas. He asked one of the mechanics, who pointed towards a little door at the end of the workshop.

Hesitantly, he pushed open the door, and found himself in a dark room, with only one bare bulb as illumination. There was a metal table with multiple tools and blueprints strewn about, a bed, a bedroll, more tools strewn about, a can leaking oil, frame-

"What are you doing in my workshop?" A woman bellowed from behind him. Herman spun in a three-sixty and found himself facing a tall, impressively muscled woman. She wore a pair of mechanic's overalls, on top of which she wore an exoskeleton frame. Six metal arms projected from her back; no doubt attached to the exoskeleton itself. Each held a tool; a blowtorch, a nasty-looking drill, a-

"There a problem, wolfie?" She rumbled. Herman offered the binder, which she grabbed with her normal hands.

"Huh. More design schematics-Forgefather Ein's work. Thanks, kid." Herman wordlessly walked past to leave before he felt a firm hand grip his shoulder.

"You got a name? You look kinda familiar"

"Herman Grauer." The very mention of it caused her eyes to grow wide, and for one of her exoskeleton arms to drop the blowtorch.

"No relation to Caleb Grauer, by any chance?" She asked. Herman felt a little unsettled by her excitement, but he went along.

"Yeah, he's my dad." She seized his hand and began to shake it vigorously.

"Pleased to meet ya, kid. Your pap and I were on the same team in Beacon-Team CAMO." Now this was news to Herman. His father never talked much about his team. Her eyes gleamed when she saw his sheath, and the handle of Nihil.

"Is that his weapon, Nihil?" She pointed. Herman nodded and pulled it out, letting her feel the weapon. "I helped him make this, you know. Though it seems it could use a little maintenance." Herman had to agree. There were scratches and nicks all over the weapon, and...

Oh dear. He hadn't cleaned it since last night, and there were unmistakable reddish-brown traces on it. Aciero frowned.

"Aren't you a bit young? I mean, most of the huntsmen here have graduated, or are in their fourth or fifth years. Where is your dad anyway?" She looked at him, but Herman's tongue had dried up.

The door swung open, revealing a little boy. He was small and thin, clad in a pair of white suspenders and leather trousers tucked into knee-length riding boots.

"Ma'am, there's a problem." he squeaked, shaking all over. Aciero lost interest in Herman and quickly walked over to the little boy, tenderly crouching down to face him eye-to-eye.

"What is it, Makellos?" She gently ran her callused hand through his clumped white hair.

"Explosions. Down at the church. Your help is needed." He choked out the sentences hesitantly, but Herman noticed that the boy had quit shivering.

"You want to come along?" She looked back and asked. Herman shrugged.

"Sure, why not."

Minutes later, Herman was in the threadbare shotgun seat of-what was in his opinion-one hell of a jeep. It let loose a mighty roar from its engine as Aciero jerked the crankshaft, causing the power of the vehicle to vibrate through the interior and into Herman's bones. The vehicle rumbled down the dirt road, bouncing over potholes. Herman scanned the bare interior. It had a hatch leading to the mounted machine gun, as well as steel grills bolted on the windshield and windows.

"This is one hell of a car." He said, basking in the glorious 1200 horsepower. It was rather exhilarating.

"I put fifteen cylinders in this baby of mine. It comes quite in handy when Grimm are chasing after you. Besides, she's just as well armored as any other tank." Herman nodded as she rattled off specifications.

Finally, they reached the Church District, where plumes of smoke rose from the anti-aircraft positions. Guardsmen and churchgoers were scattered about, weapons trained skywards. Over the din of voices and the primal roar of the engines, he could hear Solarus's voice. The Priest stood at the top of the affected building, his golden armor glinting in the sunlight.

"Let us not be disheartened, brothers and sisters! This is but a trial from our Lord!"

Herman wished he had Solarus's optimism. The jeep came to a halt. He dismounted and entered the building with Aciero, where they were greeted by an officer.

"Finally showed up, eh?" He groused.

"What's the problem? She crossed her arms.

"Saboteurs damaged our AA emplacements. Without them this area will be vulnerable to aerial Grimm, and we can't have them prey on civilians. I've tried to ask Father Solarus to withdraw, but he keeps spouting stuff about trials and whatnot. Anyways, you'd better come up and look." He turned around and they followed.

At the rooftop, Herman say that the explosion had destroyed one corner of the building, and it was a miracle that this weakened structure had not collapsed. Looking over the bits of blackened, twisted metal, he saw red drops.

"Sir?" He motioned for the officer to come. "What happened to the men on duty?"

The officer frowned. "They were supposed to be up here, but we have no report from them. Whoever infiltrated this area must have dealt with them."

Herman frowned. Obviously, the White Fang was responsible; only they had the operatives to perform such a task.

"White Fang?" He asked. The officer raised an eyebrow.

"What would they be doing here? The whole city's infested by Grimm."

"Probably trying to weaken your defenses, so they can accomplish their objectives. Push you into a corner, while your attentions are focused on the Grimm." He replied. The officer thoughtfully stroked his chin.

"I'll have to report back. By the way, who are you, kid?"

"No one important." Herman sauntered away and headed to Aciero. She rose from the destroyed emplacement, shaking her head.

"It's unsalvageable. Reduced to nothing but scrap." Upon hearing this the officer shook his head in disgust.

"Bloody hell, it seems like we might just have to fall back. Aciero, look over those other emplacements, see if we can repair anything."

The rest of the day was unremarkable, Aciero constantly asking him about his dad. Herman refused to answer each one. He just wasn't in the mood to go over painful memories. Finally, she gave up and dropped him off at base. It was nighttime, and Herman realized he didn't have a place to crash. Save for a few sentries, there was no-one around.

"Oi!" A bottle hit him, and Herman whipped around to see Beckendorf standing at the steps of the HQ, grinning like a loon.

"Where'd you run off to all day, you and Heidi?" He asked, walking over. Herman relaxed slightly.

"Heidi? She didn't come along with me." Herman said.

"She said something about checking out the refugee camps. I dunno why." Beckendorf shrugged.

"I suppose she'll be fine. Anyway, do you know where we're supposed to sleep." Herman replied. Immediately, he saw a light go up in Beckendorf's eyes.

"I have a solution, though you might not like it."

"What could it possibly be?"

"You'll see."

Minutes later, Herman was staring at a thick mat and a tattered blanket, which had been laid out in the open, right behind the HQ.

"I guess this is what you Alpha Pack commandos call 'Field Conditions'." Beckendorf said.

Herman shook his head "No, field conditions would be sleeping on the bare ground, or in a waterlogged trench, holding tight onto our food so it wouldn't get stolen by rats. This is a hotel by comparison."

"Well, luv, what are you waiting for?" Beckendorf lay down in a seductive pose, legs splayed open, grinning like a loon.

Herman stepped back.

"I think I'll take the trench, thanks." Beckendorf pouted.

"Oh, come on. You wouldn't leave your antlered friend all alone, would you?" Herman had to concede, and he lay down next to Beckendorf.

"It's kinda cold, isn't it?" Herman said.

"We could snuggle."

"Fuck off."

"We make such a great couple." Beckendorf jokingly said. Herman almost cried out in exasperation. Immediately, both looked up when they heard footsteps approaching.

"What are you guys doing?" It was Heidi, looking exhausted. Her entire stature was slouched, as if she was depressed.

"Oh, hai Heidi. Wanna be the meat in a Herman and I sandwich-"

Two arrows stuck out near their heads, and Heidi walked off into the darkness. Herman lightly smacked Beckendorf in the face. He felt rather miffed, watching Heidi wander off. For reasons he couldn't explain, he felt a little buzzing in his chest as he watched her wander off.

"Did you really have to do that?" Herman asked through gritted teeth. Beckendorf put his hands up, singing all the while.

"Baby don't hurt me, don't hurt me, no more." In Herman's opinion, it was terrible. He desperately searched for something to stop Beckendorf from singing. The lead pipe next to him was becoming more appealing by the second.

"Missing your cushy job in the supply corps yet?" Herman blurted out. Beckendorf fell silent, to his great relief.

"Not really. It was tedious paperwork, and there were always people chasing after you trying to get something or the other added to the supply manifesto. Sometimes a squad leader requested extra ammo, using a knife to make his point, and sometimes the higher ups would request some rather messed up stuff."

"Like what?"

"Commissar Petrenko comes up to me and hands me a list and some money, hissing 'I'm sure you can be trusted to keep this quiet, eh?'. It was oil-"

"Oil?"

"-and whips."

"Oh." In the back of his mind, the very novel concept was growing on him. Herman crushed those thoughts with extreme prejudice.

Meanwhile...

General Gaunt reached for a cigar. It had been a long day, and he badly needed a smoke. Lighting up, he took a long drag and exhaled a grey cloud, savoring the (somewhat dulled) onrush of nicotine.

There was a knock at the door. Gaunt coughed for a good five minutes before finally hoarsely shouting "Come in.".

Thomas 'Smoky' Friedman entered, wrinkling his scaly elongated nose-or snout-at the smell.

"Those things are going to kill you, General."

"Ah, fuck it. I'll die happy." Gaunt coughed. "So, what you got for me today, Smoky?"

"Not even going to offer some coffee, Gaunt?"

"Supplies are running low. You have no idea how long I've been saving these cigars up."

"How could supplies run low? Wasn't the attack two days ago?"

"It was. And in it we lost contact with our outlying garrisons, manufactories and farmlands. The only reason the troops are eating well for now is because we hold the agricultural district. Otherwise, in terms of spare parts, ammo, and medical supplies, we've got two- or three-months max. But enough of what I know. Any new intel on your end?"

"Yes indeed. The White Fang have been confirmed to be behind this attack, and reports point towards Adam Taurus being responsible, rather than Sienna Khan as we originally thought. Furthermore, eyewitness reports indicate that they may be still operating here, with the intent to push us out."

"Those bastards. If it's a war they want, it's a war they shall get." Gaunt slammed his fist down on the table, making it shake slightly.

"Grimm levels are also increasing, with greater types showing up with alarming frequency." Smoky slid over some photographs. Gaunt pushed them away.

"I don't need to see them. Have you got any good news?"

"Indeed, I do. Operator 1-3 has reported that the council is well and safe in their hideout, but we must extract them before something else finds them there. We have also picked up transmissions from carrier fleets Echo and Delta. If we can secure the naval port, we will be able to obtain supplies and reinforcements. However, we lost communications with one of our Polaris submarines. Its last position was near the port."

General Gaunt leaned back, contemplating his options.

"We'll have to secure our supply lines before any major actions. Assemble strike force. _"_

"Am I your intelligence officer or your staff officer?" Smoky retorted. Gaunt guffawed before slamming a little golden bell on the corner of a desk.

"Major! Major! MAJOR!" He shouted, sending shockwaves through Smoky's ears, even though Major Rita Marrone stood at the ready and was saluting for five straight minutes.

"Yes, Sir?" She asked, unruffled, as Gaunt re-opened his eyes.

"Muster up a strike force. We're going to wrest control of the port. Smoky, give her the files." Smoky did as he was told, his head ringing. He needed another smoke.

"See if you can get some huntsmen. We'll need their help. Dismissed." Smoky and Rita saluted and left.

The next few days were of such stillness that High Command had termed the general state as 'All Quiet'. During this time Grauer and Co. didn't have much to do, so Herman took it upon himself to visit the front line defenses and volunteer for some job or the other. He reasoned that if he could get on some officer's good sides, they could possible help him if he got trialed. With time, the men at the front grew to trust him and his friends to some extent, but Herman on a whole stayed aloof and knew none of them personally. It made it easier to cope when a patrol returned, five or six men short.

The entrance to the Church sector had been barricaded and people were prevented from going for Father Solarus's sermons. There was much grumbling about this, but the higher ups were able to convince the preacher to come one day each week, to keep moral up. Herman sometimes sat amongst these, listening to the so called 'Word of Oum'. Truth be told, he found it rather comforting, the concept of an afterlife, an escape from the hells on Remnant. Still, it was hard to justify all those he had killed, especially after he made a promise to Ozpin. At least he was trying not to-that had to count for something.

Heidi even confronted him about it, while he cleaned the dried blood and squelchy bits off his blade.

"You told us not to use our weapons against the rank-in-file, but last I saw, you were shredding them apart with that chainsword of yours."

Herman had no response to that. Heidi huffed and stormed back off to the massive refugee camps. She never told him what she was looking for anyway.

Finally, the day came when a massive convoy of vehicles was assembled. Troops mustered and a few huntsmen also joined in, Herman amongst them. It was time to liberate Vale, one block at a time.


	29. Naval Port

Chapter 27: Naval Port

The convoy rumbled onwards. It was 5 km long, with bulldozer-tanks taking the lead, medium battle tanks at the rear and armored vehicles in the center, with their gunners watching for any sign of movement. Herman, along with Beckendorf and Heidi rode one of the rear tanks. They weren't the only hunters there. Aciero was in one of the lead jeeps, and hunters were sprinkled amongst the convoy. There were even a few full teams. To make things better-for Herman at least-he hadn't seen Robert Aurum anywhere.

They rumbled past shattered homes and empty bazaars, the stalls open to expect customers who would never come.

It wasn't long before they came across the corpses, torn and shattered, grotesquely strewn about everywhere. Some lay dismembered in obscene manners, others were frozen with expressions of fear and shock on their withered, rotting faces. Still others lay slumped against red-stained walls while a few dangled from lamp-posts, feet pointing sharply downwards while the crows pecked at their skulls.

Herman wrinkled his nose and looked over at his teammates. Heidi remained stoic; she had seen her fair share of death. Beckendorf looked like he was about to puke.

Yet even all this was dwarfed when they came upon the magnitude of destruction at the port. Entire harbors were wrecked, their waters strewn with debris and the wreckage of moored ships. One of the Atlesian airships were even there, wedged firmly into the waters, jutting out at an awkward angle and casting a shadow over everything. Herman could make out creatures scuttling among the ruins and tightened his grip around Nihil's handle.

The fenced exterior of the Vale Naval base drew closer, or at least what was left of it. The Navy had five ports to itself, but only two seemed to be in a reasonably operable condition. Abandoned military equipment was everywhere, with their owners-or what was left of them-nearby. Half-sunken ships clogged p the harbor, listing and leaking oil.

They didn't have much time admire the gory scenery. Just as soldiers began to disembark, the armored fighting vehicle directly behind the lead tank exploded in an orange flame, sending shards of metal flying everywhere. A twisting trail of smoke dissipated just as the destroyed vehicle's rear hatch dropped open. Out of the inferno, a soldier staggered out, futilely beating at his clothes before dropping to the ground, screaming. The shrieks of others echoed from within the inferno.

"OFF THE VEHICLES!" An officer ordered, his voice barely emerging above the gunfire. Four, five more smoke trails appeared, and sparks clattered off metallic surfaces.

Herman leapt of the tank and hunkered right by its side, Heidi and Beckendorf next to him. He peeked round the tracks.

Multiple targets, occupying the top and bottom floors of the Naval College adjacent to the harbor. Even though he could just see the muzzle flashes, he knew who they were.

Herman crouched and laid down bursts of fire, using tracer rounds to 'walk' his bullets into the enemy positions. There was just one downside; the tracers let his enemies easily pinpoint his position. Twice bullets scraped off his cover, and he had to roll behind another vehicle as another RPG round slammed into the tank he was sheltering behind. Fortunately the round was a dud-all it did was dent the armor plating of the tank.

The Vale Guard were now bringing the mighty firepower of their vehicles to bear on target; tank rounds blew out huge chunks of masonry, flak cannons punched through enemy cover, and 50. cal machine guns forced them behind cover, unable to fire back at the advancing hunters and Guardsmen. Beckendorf stayed quite a way back, while Heidi slipped between cover, arrows at the ready. Alongside them Professors Port and Oobleck led the charge, while a fashionably dressed woman took cover behind a dark-skinned man as large as Oliva. Herman watched incredulously as she tapped her handbag and it morphed into a minigun, the sight briefly jerking his attention away from the battle.

All of a sudden, it ended. The sound of gunfire faded away, and the ground brew darker beneath Herman's feet. A massive shadow spread over the battlefield. If he didn't know better, he'd have thought it was a patch of clouds blocking out the sun.

But he did know better. Turning around, as so many others had done, he saw what could be best described as a black mass dotted with pulsating red-green polyps rising out of the center port of the naval base, water glistening on its bone armor. It regaled the battlefield with its malevolent red eyes.

And it had eight tentacles, each the length and with of an apartment building, thickly layered with pinkish-red suckers. In one it clutched the remains of a submarine.

"Oh, I knew my internet search history would catch up to me some day." Beckendorf said.

Herman grabbed him and leapt aside as a massive tentacle came bearing down on them, barely avoiding the wall of flesh by inches. The blow generated tremors and a spider like pattern of cracks across the asphalt. When the tentacle lifted, where there had been a 68 tonne tank there was now a circular green pancake.

Herman pulled Beckendorf to his feet and yanked the reindeer along; Beckendorf was well-meaning and a great help (sometimes), but was simply no fighter. He saw the imposing frame of Aciero towering over a jeep, which was exuding black fumes from its engine. The mechanic was hunched over it, two of her robo-arms fiddling about within the vehicle while the remaining arms clutched weapons of various types. She looked up as Herman approached, eyebrows raised.

"Mind keeping this safe for me?" He pushed the still cursing Herman behind the vehicle and darted back before he could get a reply.

The assorted vehicle of the Vale Guard had been smashed to bits, with only a few of the assault jeeps, light tanks and medium tanks remaining. Shattered vehicles lay abandoned while infantrymen brought heavier weapons to bear on the Kraken. A submarine went soaring through the air and was about to smash apart several soldiers, but for the valiant efforts of a tall and athletic-looking young man with shaved-short black hair and tanned skin. In the blink of an eye, he appeared right in front of the submarine and sliced upwards. Metal groaned and creaked, and the submarine separated into two parts which fell harmlessly to the side. As if the beast was stunned, it ceased its attacks, allowing rest of the hunters to proceed their assault while the Vale Guardsmen loosed a torrent of rockets and 50mm HE grenades. Explosive ammunition peppered the beast, and Herman could see the first few cracks to appear in the creature's armor.

Time to get to work. He took off running past the frontlines and head on towards the beast, Nihil whirring eagerly. Focusing his Aura, he leapt as the monster swept its tentacles, crushing the railings of the port and landed on one of the tentacles. Even though he wore tightly laced hiking boots, he could feel slime seeping into his socks and pooling about his feet.

No time to ruminate on that. The monster slammed the tentacle in an attempt to shake the boy off, but Herman thrust Nihil deep into the black flesh and hung on for dear life as the beast thrashed to and fro. Bile rose to his throat. Once again he was forced to leap, tearing Nihil out of the Kraken's flesh as it tried to seep him off with another tentacle, just like one would flick off a fly. Explosive rounds detonated about him as he made his leap, and the tiny little cracks in it's bone plate were widening. Herman thrust Nihil into a wide crack and the buzzing chainsaw went in with a _schlick_ , eviscerating flesh. Wasting no time, the Grimm grabbed for him again, and this time there was nowhere for him to run. It yanked him and Nihil out, stared at the Faunus contemptuously and threw him into the water.

While Herman was playing hero, Heidi lurked from cover to cover, loosing an arrow from time to time. But these were only tiny pinpricks, and she gritted her teeth in frustration. She needed heavier equipment if she was to put a scratch on the beast.

"Please, miss!" An infantryman reached out and grabbed her shoulder with a grubby hand. "You've got to help me open the rear of this vehicle! Odrin, our radioman's stuck inside. If we don't get him out, we can't signal the fleet for help!" He stared at her imploringly. Heidi thought over it for a second, looked over and saw a small shape flying and hitting the water. Torn between the two, she looked at the turtled vehicle and at the foam generated from the impact. And she knew what she had to do.

"I'm sorry, Herman." She turned towards the rear of the APC and thrust Gratia Venti into the metal, perforating it. She dragged her blades, cutting a circular hole in the metal. It was a tough going, and her arms began to ache, but soon she was done. Stepping back, she pushed the newly created metal id inwards, and out crawled a radioman, his face perspiring from the sweat. Anxiously, Heidi looked back at the port. The ripples generated from the impact had died out.

She didn't have to worry. Bored with waiting at his spot, Beckendorf peeked over the jeep and saw Herman smack the water. Shaking his head, he grabbed towing cable from the jeep and looked at Aciero, who had charged ahead, weapons blazing. He slunk through firing lines and made his way towards the port, dodging the occasional tentacle.

Herman didn't know hitting water from a height would hurt so much. Shocked from the impact, he sank slowly. Only when his lungs began to hurt did he fervently thrash, trying to reach the surface of the water.

But then another thought gripped his mind; Where was Nihil? Herman panickily looked about the gloomy waters, but he couldn't see his beloved weapon anywhere. Though his backpack weighed his down, and his lungs were screaming, he simply couldn't think of losing Nihil. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a glint. With renewed strength, he swam towards the glint, and his chainsword came into view. It had sunk straight down, and Herman reached out to claim it.

Just as his fingers made contact with the handle, something gripped his foot.

A tentacle. It was thinner and smaller, but it held his leg in an iron vice. Then Herman saw its owner; an octopus, looking very much like the larger creature. Two more appeared, and Herman tried to swim away, but the Grimm was not letting go. Iron bars contracted about his chest. Flicking the lever switch, Nihil sprung into action. He waited for the two to come closer before swinging Nihil, leaving a trail of bubbles. The chainsword cleanly sliced through the Grimm's heads, and the grip about his foot loosened. Freed, he swam up to the surface of the water and breached it. Unfortunately, when he stupidly opened his mouth to take a deep breath he ended up swallowing a large portion of sea water mixed with motor oil.

Something hit him on the back of his head, and Herman jerked around to see a sheepishly grinning Beckenendorf, cable tow in hand.

"Funny how the scum comes out on top, eh!" He yelled, seemingly oblivious to the 80-foot Kraken laying waste to everything. Losing no time, he grabbed the cable and allowed Beckendorf to yank him out.

"Damn," Beckendorf grunted "You're heavy. Could've ditched the rucksack."

Herman issued a grunt of thanks before grabbing Beckendorf and rushing for the nearest piece of cover-a large chunk of rubble, formerly belonging to the navy offices. His throat burned from the motor oil he had swallowed.

"Situation?" HE hoarsely asked. Beckendorf shook his head.

"Typical Alpha Pack commando. Not a 'Hi, nice to see you', or 'Thanks' but 'Situation?"

"There's a huge fucking octopus murdering everybody, if you haven't noticed."

"I have. I also spy the battleships of the Vale Navy on the horizon."

"What now?" Herman peeked from cover, and sure enough, the imposing shapes of multiple destroyers, aircraft carriers and frigates were steadily steaming onwards.

Unfortunately they didn't have much time to celebrate. The huge chunk of rubble was seized by a tentacle and thrown towards the surviving task force, leaving the pair exposed.

"And now we run." Without waiting for a response, Herman grabbed Beckendorf and ran back to the defenders. Only the hunters seemed to be putting up a fight, for the Vale Guard had been brutally battered. With surprising nimbleness, the large, athletic man Herman saw before dodged a tentacle jab and sliced through it cleanly, and beside him, a female rabbit Faunus had some sort of hologram weapon. A dark-skinned, copper haired man with blades attached to his arms slammed them into the ground, generating a shockwave. Herman couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy, and resolved to practice harder. If he survived, that was.

Heidi came scurrying towards them, relief in her eyes.

"This things on it's last legs! We can finish it off!" She yelled, but Herman shook his head.

"We've done enough. They'll handle the rest." He jerked his thumb at the hunters. She looked at him incredulously.

"Some of that motor oil go to your head?" She retorted.

Before Herman could reply, there was a series of sharp cracks, as if someone had snapped a tree in half, followed by a deep, rumbling roar. The ships of the Vale Navy were now obscured in yellow flame and black smoke.

Then the Kraken roared in pain (Though Herman could not see any mouth), a colossal, gigantic noise causing the earth to shake. It recoiled, dangerously toppling forward as 16-inch shell after 16-inch shell slammed into its hide. Jet fighters swooped past, unloading a deadly payload of HVAR rockets and 290mm Gau-8 rounds. The beast wilted under the gunfire, and let out one final, piteous roar before toppling backwards and sinking into the water, slowly dissipating as it did so.

It was the most beautiful display of weaponry Herman had ever seen. Tired, he sank down next to a destroyed APC with his friends and watched the fleet pull into port.


	30. Misadventures

Chapter 28: Misadventures

Gaunt was poring over a holo-map, generated by his scroll. His finger snaked across the city, passing over streets, homes, plazas and such like.

The door slammed open, causing the General to whip out his single-action revolver at the intruder. It was Smoky. The general sighed and holstered his weapon.

"Now why the hell did you have to do that, Smoky?"

"The port is yours, Sir. Forces have been dispatched to secure the holding, while Fleet Admiral Kemp is on his way here, along with Admirals Stillwell, Kelly and Channon. Vice Admiral Jones and Rear Admiral Clifford are currently supervising operations. Major Marrone's dispatched a squad of Military Policemen as well to supervise internal base security operations." Hearing this, the General gave a tight-lipped smile before returning to his map.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Herman leaned against the tank, pouring water into a helmet before dipping his hands into said helmet and trying to wash the oil off. It had seeped into his clothes as well, but there was nothing that could be done about that. He looked over his shoulder, at the now-bustling port. Multiple ships were docked, including a few cargo ships packed to the brim. The hustle and bustle of the port had drawn survivors from the local areas, and most of them were being patted down in one of the Naval College buildings, repurposed as a base of operations. Basic fortifications had already been set up but judging by the orchestra of a thousand dry throats, someone had already unloaded the liquor.

" _ **I've got the reach and the teeth of a killin' machine with a need to bleed you when the light goes green!**_ _"_ A drunken crowd roared, making itself heard over the sound of machinery. Herman was half tempted to join in; he too knew the lyrics.

"Pssst! Herman!" He looked at Beckendorf and Heidi, who were crouched by the tank. Both wore worried expressions on their faces. Concern, he headed over to them as he hummed the next stanza.

"What's going on?" Herman asked. Heidi and Beckendorf exchanged looks, before beckoning him closer.

"We're gonna have to be really discreet here, maybe even leave." Heidi hissed, trying to make herself hear over the roar of rowdy soldiers and the pounding of machinery.

"Why?"

"We were hanging round the main gate, when a SUV pulled up and four men got out. They were dressed much like the Vale Guard, but one thing really stood out." Heidi continued.

"They had red armbands, with M.P. written on them." Beckendorf interjected.

"Military Police? What about them?" Herman asked. Heidi smacked her armored hand against her forehead.

Just then, one of the policemen strolled by. By complete chance-or perhaps just an ingrained sense of duty-the man glanced left and right. He would've proceeded on his way was it not for the fact he saw someone familiar on his left, someone who barely matched month-old criminal reports. Trying to place the face, the military policeman stared at the Faunus for a great length of time

Herman felt odd inside, almost as if someone had poured molten lead into his stomach as the M.P. stared him down, but he tried to remain calm, thinking of a way to warn his friends. Looking around, he saw that there were not a great deal of people nearby. Far to his right was the crashed Atlesian ship, right across the miles of yellow construction equipment and milling crowds. Closer to his right were three red buckets filled with gravel, marked FIRE.

"Oi, you there! Show me your identification." The M.P. strode forth, extended his steel truncheon. Heidi and Beckendorf looked back at the advancing figure, and back at Herman.

"Bugger." Said the reindeer.

"Quite." The she-wolf followed up. Yet she thought quickly and struck first. Lashing out with her left foot, she caught the largest of the steel buckets with her foot and sent it flying towards the M.P. who barely had time to let out a yell before it hit him full in the face, spilling gravel everywhere.

"Where do we go now?" Beckendorf asked. Heidi just shrugged her shoulders, and Herman chewed his lip. To go back to the HQ was suicide, and he didn't much like his chances in the Grimm-infested city.

"We run…. thataways!" He jerked his thumb towards the ship, just as two more M.P.s turned a corner, having heard their friend cry out. They saw the trio run, and quickly spoke into their radios.

However, the crowds were larger, the machinery even bigger and louder. They snuck their way behind a large covered truck, and attempted to plan. Unfortunately, the professional M.P.s were also able to squirrel out the trio just as fast.

"There they are!" One M.P. yelled. He brandished his truncheon, while the troops beside him levelled their weapons. The two other M.P.s ran up to the firing squad, one with a megaphone in his hand.

"SURRENDER NOW. YOU ARE SURROUNDED." He ordered.

There was just one thing that was bugging Herman. Where was the fourth M.P.?

Heidi cried out in shock as Beckendorf screamed. Herman turned around in shock, only to see the thin, wiry bastard standing over a fallen Beckendorf, firmly pressing the truncheon into the Reindeer Faunus's back.

"SURRENDER NOW, OR YOU WILL BE SHOT."

Herman looked at Heidi, meeting her eyes. They had come to the same conclusion.

"THIS IS OUR LAST WARNING."

Heidi sprinted and leapt onto the jeep door, before leaping at the slack jawed M.P., feet extended. Herman dropped and performed a leg sweep. The M.P. was knocked off his feet, and as he fell Heidi's armored heels connected with his temple, knocking the military policeman out cold.

Herman grabbed Beckendorf before taking cover behind the jeep with Heidi as the first few shots rang out. Heidi skidded next to him, before saying,

"What now?"

Herman pointed at the wide-open gap of the crashed Atlesian ship. She looked at him, eyes dilated.

"Are you insane? There could be anything lurking within!" She hissed. The gunshots were getting louder.

"That's the idea." And with that, Herman took off, and leapt. He cleared the gap easily, and landed in the darkness of the ship, Beckendorf still perfectly balanced on his shoulder. Moments later, Heidi followed, skidding across the cool metal exterior. Due to the angle at which the ship had crashed into the port, both were standing at a slight tilt.

"Now what?" She asked.

"To be honest, I didn't think that far." Herman replied. Heidi threw her arms up in exasperation.

Herman grunted, and shifted Beckendorf before looking around. His eyes quickly adjusted, and he could make out that they were in a maintenance shaft, what with the grille floor and regular placement of vents. However, there was another, smaller gap to the right of them, leading further within.

" _That ought to be the way to go then_ ", Herman thought. He strode forward, ignoring Heidi's calls. It was even darker in there, lit only by a dim red light which flickered on and off. Herman could see massive turbines, and behind them, a stairway leading up to a door. He took a step forward, before freezing. A massive screech echoed through the ship, washing over him. His ears, sore from the hubbub at the port, began to hurt again. Something dropped and landed right in front of him.

A misshapen lump of meat draped in rags. Herman blinked and peered at them and noticed little red stumps on what must've been the neck, legs and arms. Also, those 'rags' seemed to be a pilot's overalls. Herman looked up, where the body came from. He could see another gaping hole in the 'roof' of the engine room.

"Herman? I think we should-oh dear Oum." Heidi came running up and noticed the corpse.

"Weapons ready." Herman said, drawing Nihil and switching it to LMG form. Heide unsheathed her swords, and the duo proceeded up the stairway and into a dark corridor. All the lights were off, but their eyes only took a few more seconds to adapt. One end of the corridor had been blocked off by debris, while the other stretched on in the other direction. More torn, chewn-up corpses were strewn about, and as Herman passed by one, he noticed had small, thin holes in their torsos.

Back to back, they advanced down the hallway, passing by locked doors, until they came upon a partially opened one. Herman peered inside. Inside were a few lockers and bunks. He brought his face closer, and something moved. The wolf narrowed his eyes, trying to see what had moved. His finger lay ready at the trigger.

A single black bony claw slashed out of the door. Herman recoiled, feeling the claw barely miss his nose. The screeching owner of the claw also appeared, wedging itself into the doorway. It was small and thin, like a dog, but far bonier. It had the trademark bone armor of a Grimm and had eight little red eyes. It slashed wildly and twisted about, trying to get at them.

Herman pulled the trigger, and the sheer force of his 7.62x12mm Fire Dust rounds sent the beast flying back into the darkness. It let out one last wail, and promptly shut up. The commotion had roused Beckendorf, who perked up, blinking blearily at his surroundings.

"Huh? Where are we? And who's touching my ass?" Herman dropped him down on the metal floor, and immediately regretted it, because as soon as Beckendorf saw the two of them his face split into his trademark, shit-eating grin.

"Oh, hai Heidi and Herman. Hehe. Heidi and Herman. Sounds cute-"

Heidi rolled her eyes and Herman groaned.

"Shut up. Can you walk?" Herman asked, helping his 'friend' up.

"Guess I can. But where are we?" answered the reindeer.

"Not important. Stick with us." Herman replied and moved further down the hall, Heidi and Beckendorf following.

"I never knew 'not important' was a location. Guess I've seen it all, eh?" Herman tried his best not to punch Beckendorf. Somewhere in the ship, they could hear something chittering.

 _ **CLANG. CLANG. CLANG.**_

They froze.

 _ **CLANG CLANG CLANG CLANG CLANG**_.

The chittering grew louder, and the clanging seemed to be coming from the walls next to them. Almost if they were inside the walls. The chittering stopped, and it dawned upon Herman.

"They're in the vents!" He yelled, just as a metal grille went flying off its hinges and half a dozen ugly critters spilled out. He let loose with Nihil, pouring hot lead into the little bastards. Down the hall, more hinges came popping off, and uglier little bastards came pouring out, screeching. Heidi sliced a few, before kicking one that latched onto her leg. Herman kept up the stream of bullets, thinning out the horde, before one dropped from above and right onto his head. It screeched in victory and tried to lock its jaws about his head, but Herman ripped it right off and smashed it into the floor, before introducing his boot to its face.

"Heidi, Beckendorf!" He yelled, "We are leaving!" Heidi slowly moved backwards, slicing the Grimm into tiny black chunks, while Beckendorf helped Herman reload Nihil. The Grimm were rushing at them from every conceivable side and angle now, but Herman did not dare switch Nihil to its chainsword form lest he harm his friends while swinging it about. Beckendorf stuck close to Herman, but the Grimm sensed the inability of the Faunas to defend himself. Tasting his palpable fear, they rushed right for him, forcing Herman to act as a shield for 'Dorf. They squealed and scratched away, but the crew were able to fight their way up, where they saw one single, open door. Above it, in once-lit lettering, was written;

 **ARMORY**

Weapon blazing and blades slicing, they entered. Beckendorf slammed the keypad on the other end, and Herman swore he could've seen it glow for a second before the doors slammed shut on a Grimm, severing the head from its body. Thankfully, this place only had one vent, which Heidi rushed over to and blocked it with a small crate.

"I don't know how long this will hold, so let's be fast." She said. Herman nodded, and looked over the mostly bare racks. There were a few containers of ammunition but little else. Something else glinted in the corner, a small cabinet. Herman strode over and noted something very interesting written on it.

PROPERTY OF ATLESIAN R&D. IF FOUND, RETURN IMMEDIATELY TO YOUR NEAREST ATLESIAN BASE, SCIENCE LAB, OR EMBASSY.

Herman grinned and gripped the handle, yanking firmly. The door came off in his hand, and Herman peeped inside. There were four or five black cases, and Herman opened one. It was full of science-looking gubbinz.

All his now. He grabbed the stuff and shoved it into his Sherwani pockets. If there was one thing he knew, the Atlesians had some pretty high-tech stuff. It almost made him forget about the scratching on the metal door outside.

 _Ka-chunk._

Herman turned behind him, and saw Beckendorf, combat shotgun in hand and bandolier slung across his chest. He grinned and nodded approvingly, but their little moment was interrupted by the squeals of Grimm outside and the roar of machine guns.

"Could that be rescue?" Heidi asked.

The doors blew open, and as the dust settled a bipedal mech entered, Gatling guns whirring. It was like a mini-Paladin in appearance and was only slightly taller than Herman.

"RETURN THE STOLEN PROPERTY IMMEDIATELY." It beeped. Not the rescue, then.

Heidi glared at Herman, who only shrugged. It was his stuff. His. And no mech was going to tell him otherwise. He sprinted at the mechanical beast, before leaping over it, switching Nihil to its chainsword from. He buried it in the mech's head, before grabbing the left turret, still spitting lead, and turning it towards the hallway, where more Grimm came swarming at them. Beckendorf loosed a few shotgun blasts at the mech, while Heidi darted forward and sliced right through it. Herman pulled Nihil out, and leapt into the surviving horde, switching to Gryphon style immediately. With a few slices and spins, the remaining Grimm dropped to the floor, bisected and headless.

"Shall we proceed?" Herman asked Heidi, who only sighed. They continued walking and found themselves entering the main bridge. Technicians, soldiers, pilots, and mechanicals lay strewn about amongst destroyed computers, tables and chairs.

"What a mess…. I'd almost feel sorry for them." Herman said as he gazed upon the bodies.

"I wouldn't. These ships were a symbol of their imperialism, the jackboot they used to crush opposition." Heidi murmured in monotone.

"More importantly, lads, we need to decide what we gotta do now." Beckendorf shouted over the blasts of his shotgun; more of the Grimm had come crawling. Both Heidi and Herman nodded as they advanced, stepping past the corpses and destroyed equipment.

"We've gotta lie low for a bit, so Vale's the best place as any. With plenty of Grimm there'll be few people about-might even be our chance to do some good." Herman said.

"I agree with that, but what about supplies?" Heidi asked, kneeling to collect a handful of intact ammunition from a fallen crewman's combat harness. They came across a massive hole in the roof, with sunlight filtering through.

"We'll scrounge around. I trust you won't feel too bad about the occasional worm, though."

"Not at all, though I'd rather have a nice tasty beetle." Heidi wryly remarked. Herman smiled a little.

"I can't wait till we have proper food someday; I've been on a steady MRE diet. I hear it does wonders for the digestive tract." Herman grimaced a bit as he spoke; at Beacon his stomach was not used to eating the 'softer', richer fare he was given and consequently his digestion was poor for a while.

"You'll survive." Heidi remarked, and was going to say something further before whipping around at the sound of Beckendorf's shotgun.

"Herman! Herman!" He looked up at 'Dorf's panicked cries. More of those creepy Grimm came rushing, and Beckendorf fell as they swarmed him. Charging into the fray, he sliced the bastards apart before he came to his friend. He yanked the Grimm off, ignoring the ones that clambered up onto him, biting him, and hefted his friend up. He ran back for Heidi and helped her up. Together, they ran from the horde, and leapt up through the impromptu skylight, and kept running up the ship, the horde chasing after them. The edge of the ship got closer and closer...

"JUMP!" Herman yelled, and they did, right off the ship and down into the deep, dark heart of Grimm-infested Vale.


	31. The Baron

Chapter 29:The Baron

"Watch out!" Herman yelled as they soared through the air, right towards the face of a scarred, shelled out building. He smashed right into the concrete, shattering the wall and slowing down his fall somewhat. He went skidding through the dark hallway and out through the fourth-story window, ungraciously landing face down in a pile of rubble. Beckendorf came soaring through the pathway Herman created and landed right on top of him, while Heidi landed gracefully in front of the two male Faunas.

Groaning, Herman pushed Beckendorf off and beat the dust off his Sherwani. Every part of his body ached, and blood dripped from his nose. Shaking his head, he looked around. They were in a main street. Thick clouds of dust obscured everything, stinging their eyes and irritating their noses. The blood-red sun hung over them, and the shattered moon was visible despite it being evening. An eerie silence reigned, before Heidi spoke.

"Where now?"

"Sooner we get off the main street, the better. Remember last time?" Herman asked.

There was a sudden rumbling, causing all three to whip around, and weapons ready.

"That's an engine. Probably of something really big." Beckendorf helpfully added, silently wondering if help was on its way.

Somewhere a wall collapsed, and out on to the main street rumbled on a massive tank. It wasn't in the colors of the Vale Guard, though. It was painted a dull white and boasted the insignia of the White Fang. Behind it trooped a few soldiers of the White Fang. With a mighty groan the massive vehicle turned its turret towards them.

"Now, we run." Herman ordered, and they went sprinting into a side alley as the tank opened fire with its pintle-mounted machine gun, riddling the sidewalk and walls with bullets. Herman barged in to a side door and found himself in a kitchen. Beckendorf and Heidi charged in behind him, just as the wall was riddled with high-calibre weaponry. Herman grabbed his friends and fell to the ground, lying face down as chunks of cement fell on them. The main cannon roared, creating a new hole in the building and shaking it to its foundations.

"Dude." Beckendorf mumbled over the gunfire. "You've got a chainsword, and you're a commando. Why the fuck aren't you going out there and kicking ass?"

"Not tactically viable." Herman replied.

"Beckendorf has a point. We two can do it." Heidi interjected.

"Did neither of you study tactics? When against a superior force, you fall back to an advantageous-" Beckendorf grabbed Herman's head and twisted it towards him, cutting off Herman's lecture, pulling him up. The wolf was so surprised he didn't react.

"Fuck the rulebook, you twit. We're fighting for our lives-we use anything in our arsenal. You've got a bloody huge Aura-go out and fight for us! Go be awesome, damnit!" With that, he shoved Herman up and out through a human-shaped hole, into the street. The tank was right before him, and two of the foremost soldiers raised their weapons and immediately keeled over, arrows buried in their arms and knees.

Herman was right in front of the tank, staring right down the barrel. He could see the pintle-mounted machinegun slowly turning towards him. He could see three other White Fang soldiers shouting, pressing the trigger, small spurts of fire erupting from the barrels. It all seemed to happen so slowly.

He willed his concrete legs to move on, and as he hurtled towards the tank, he found himself soaring upwards, until he was right above the tank descending rapidly upon the battened-down hatch. Unconsciously, he had brought Nihil over his head, and smashed it right down onto the armor plating. Nihal's teeth whined and scraped, sending sparks flying, but Herman pressed it downwards, separating metal, rending the very turret apart. He had a clear view of the inner crew now, three members. The tank commander stood there, slack-jawed, his face barely inches away from Nihil's eager teeth. The driver and the gunner tried scrambling out of the tank's cramped interior, but half-blinded by the sudden light entering the vehicle, they ended up smashing into one another.

The commander fumbled for his pistol, and although Herman vaguely recalled Ozpin's 'No killing' policy, he couldn't help but resist dipping the blade a little more downwards. Nihil squealed happily as its whirring teeth cut through the soft white fabric of the commander's peaked hat, and through the brittle plastic of the headset. The commander barely had time to shriek as the whirring teeth split his forehead like a rip watermelon, before the full force of the blade came smashing down on his skull, sending bone fragment, grey matter, and shredded bits of skin and blood vessels everywhere. Even then Nihil did not stop, messily carving its way down the tank commander's face, past his thorax, and finally stopping when it had bisected most of his spinal column in two.

Herman gently extracted the bloodstained sword from the once-tank commander. The left part of him sagged downwards, and peeled away from the right, exposing how neatly Herman had split him right down the middle. Where his stomach lay in two, spilling the internal contents, Herman saw a puddle of red, and partially dissolved dark red chunks. Stewed tomatoes, maybe, or some meat. Shaking, he stepped back. He heard one of the surviving members vomit, before the two clambered out, shaking, their skin pale and eyes nearly buldging out from their sockets. The gunner had a glutinous yellow liquid all over his front. Their condition was not improved when they saw Heidi standing there, extracting arrows from fallen comrades.

"Puh-puh-puh." Said one, holding his hands high up. "Puh-puh-please don't..." His voice trailed off. Although Herman felt thoroughly disgusted by his actions, he couldn't help but feel a little dark satisfaction curling up within him. His skull began to tingle excitedly. Sickened yet excited, Herman turned around. Beckendorf casually leaned against the restaurants take-out counter, smiling at Herman.

"Rule of cool, bro. It makes the most insane plans possible." He grinned, but Herman didn't have a goddamn clue what his friend was raving on about.

Now was when Herman became aware of several figures marching through the dust. He raised his weapon reflexively. His friends also sensed the approaching threats, and duly scrambled for cover behind the destroyed tank. Only Herman stood out in the open, standing over the remains of the tank, the two surviving members of the tank crew right behind him. Herman just faintly turned around and growled,

"Stay down." At this threat, they shook their heads and got down on all fours. Yet as Herman turned around again, they scuttled away. Heidi and Beckendorf watched them go, and decided to leave them be. It wasn't as if the new arrivals would treat them better.

The figures were drawing closer, and the last dust cloud parted before their approach.

Jack Lauton had seen many things in his career, but he never expected to see the Convict Grauer standing atop a Mark 4 Challenger tank. It was one of the heaviest tanks ever produced, albeit in limited numbers because 65mm armor may sound good, but it came at the cost of the vehicle's mobility-not to mention its 12-inch gun was not suitable for engaging large packs of Grimm. The arrival of Paladins had pretty much made tanks obsolete, but only the Atlesian Army had those beauties. Still, it was a shock to see that the White Fang had heavy armour, and an even greater shock to see the convict standing atop it, having split the turret in two.

"Is that..." Oliva's voice trailed off, and similarly-impressed Atlesian soldiers stood behind him, weapons tentatively raised. Accompanying them were six members of the 'Battle-Axe' division, led by Captain-Baron Rodriguez, and Robert Aurum. The members of the "Battle-Axe" division wore knee-length polished black boots, tan-coloured breeches, fern-green double-starched uniform shirts with drab olive cloaks tied round the collar and the standard green helmet of the Vale Guard.

Herman stood there, weapon still raised. Heidi and Beckendorf cautiously exited cover, weapons at the ready, unsure if these men had come to capture them or not.

Captain Lauton was the first to lower his weapon, motioning at the rest to do the same. Robert Aurum ignored the captain and kept his weapon aimed at the convict. His breath had become shallow and fast.

"Aurum." The captain warned, but the specialist advanced two more steps. Herman now aimed the weapon at the approaching threat, rather than the group. The intermittent silence was so intense one could fancy hearing their blood flowing through their veins.

"Aurum!" The captain repeated, firmly this time. Oliva stepped forward and gripped the specialist firmly by the shoulder, earning him a venomous glare. Now Lauton stepped forward to address Herman.

"Get down from that tank, convict." He ordered, slowly crouching at putting his weapon down on the pavement. The rest of his men looked on, surprised, but Lauton knew what Herman was capable of.

Herman swallowed, feeling the dryness in his throat. Worst came to worst, he could take on the entire group, but the specialist was a primary concern. Still, he sheathed Nihil, warily trusting the Captain to keep his subordinates in check.

"What are you doing out here?" Captain Lauton asked, somewhat awkwardly. He felt a little uneasy around the convict, and even a little fearful, after what that kid had done to him aboard the VTOL. He also knew that HQ had put out arrest warrants for these three, but seeing is believing, and what Lauton saw sowed doubt in his mind about HQ's intentions and the kid's actual allegiance. The whole affair gave him a headache.

"We got separated from the convoy. We're just trying to head back to HQ." Heidi answered. Herman was initially surprised but decided to go with it. She was a better liar than him, after all, though he was hoping Lauton didn't know of the order to arrest them.

"Right, right. But there's no going back that way-" Lauton indicated the junction behind them "-because the streets are swarming with Grimm. I say you stick with us for the time being." At least this way, Lauton reasoned, they wouldn't have a dangerous killer on the loose.

Herman shrugged and jumped off the tank, his two friends following behind. It wasn't as if they had much of a choice.

Sighing, he walked along with the group. Unconsciously, he had moved next to Oliva.

"So, what are you doing here?" The words left Herman's mouth involuntarily. He just wanted to forget the sight of the tank commander's corpse. Oliva looked at him in surprise, before answering.

"Jus' another mission. Dunno if you've 'eard but General Ironwood ordered all Atlesian personnel back to Atlas."

"Then why are you still out here?"

Oliva looked at him strangely, before replying curtly with a strange smile.

"Loose talk, can kill your comrades." Herman felt slightly foolish. Of course, they did not trust him; he was still a terrorist. And that, would neither be forgiven or forgotten. He felt a chill pass down his spine as he ruminated upon his possible fate.

His rumination was cut short when the air was split with three blood-curdling screams. The squad immediately broke for cover.

"The hell was that?" One of the Vale guardsmen yelled.

"Came from the street adjacent." One crouching next to him replied.

"Sir, should we investigate?" Said another.

"It might be a trap." Lauton said, shaking his head. Rodriguez put his hand on Lauton's shoulder.

"Great cry, little wool. Dangerous chaps are quieter." He said to the Atlesian captain, before rising and motioning at his men to advance. Captain Lauton looked at Herman. An idea began to brew in his head.

"Rodriguez! Send him-" Lauton pointed at Herman "-forward. He'll check for any traps."

"The convict? Why not?" Saying that, Rodriguez walked over to Herman, whose ears perked up at his approach, Heidi and Beckendorf watched him approach, tightening their grips on their weapons.

"You three. Take point." The captain said, before walking back to his men. Beckendorf snorted.

"He wants us to take the bullets." Heidi muttered.

"Still, if we want to stay on their good side, we'll have to do it."

Herman rose, keeping his weapon level as he rounded the corner.

A dusty street, a row of homes. One had been utterly destroyed by the shelling, only a few walls left standing. The other's boundary walls had collapsed. And again, that ever-present sight. Mangled corpses. But now Herman was indifferent to it.

Ahead of him was a single electricity pole, on top of which three children precariously balanced, yelling their lungs out. Two crouched on the lower rung, while one awkwardly balanced behind them, one foot on the lower rung, another on the upper rung. Three scrawny looking Beowolves howled as they tried to leap up the pole, like dogs trying to get a trapped cat. Herman pulled the trigger, and all three fell down dead. The kids kept hollering, though, and Herman's ears hurt. He walked forward, lowering his gun.

"Are you, all right?" He yelled. They shut up but remained silent. Herman noticed all three were Faunas. One had ear tufts of an owl, the other had enormous beady eyes, like a frog's, and the third had tiny little claws. The third shuffled about uncomfortably, his hand around his waist. The child cowered behind the other three and fished out something small and black.

Herman was about to ask if they could get down, but his ears picked up the sound of approaching footsteps. From the collapsed wall, no less.

"White Fang!" Heidi cried out, drawing an arrow. She staggered as a few bullets smashed into her chest piece. Beckendorf cried out when twelve-gauge shells smashed into his chest. Herman was also hit, but he roared out and rushed towards the five of them, taking cover behind the rubble. His vision had turned red.

Rodriguez and Lauton poked around the corner, caught off-guard by the sudden cacophony of screams.

A severed arm went flying down the roar, smacking the tarmac with a wet thump. Soon after, a head came rolling along as well, red strings of flesh whipping around from where the neck used to be. This was accompanied by a pair of bleeding hands-a shotgun gripping the grip and the fore-grip. Roudigrez and Lauton decided to duck back and wait for the sound of the chainsaw revving to die down before proceeding.

"Kid's got issues." Muttered the Baron-Captain.

"The 'ell was goin' on?" Oliva asked, nervously fingering his dog tags.

"The convict doing what he does best." Lauton replied.

When Herman's rage wore off, he found himself standing over countless bits of flesh. But he didn't feel remorse-he felt rather good about it. Then sanity stepped in, and once more he felt an immense weariness drape itself about his head and shoulders. Head hung low, he looked back at Heidi, who was dusting off the front of her armor. She met his gaze briefly, before looking elsewhere. Beckendorf coughed, before leaning against a wall.

" _No time for remorse. Can't hesitate in battle, because the enemy won't._ " Herman told himself, before shouting back at the waiting squads.

"All clear!" The soldiers came marching, the two Captains taking the lead. They looked up at the stranded children.

"Kids. Can't take them with us." Rodriguez said.

"Yes, but we cannot abandon them here." Replied Lauton. Rodriguez just shook his head, before pulling Beckendorf up.

"Report." He ordered.

"We saw these kids, and one of them pulled out something. Soon after, we were attacked and well..." His voice trailed off as he looked at the gore. Rodriguez walked on and shouted at the kids.

"Get down from that post! Now!" They froze, and began to converse .between themselves. Rodriguez's keen eye noticed that the one at the back was holding a walkie-talkie.

"You there! Get down now or I will open fire!" He yelled, causing some consternation among the troops. The kids, however ceased their operations and stared at him, their faces white. Finally, after an age, they slid down the pole. They faced Rodriguez, trembling.

"I know you called the Fang on our position. Give me that walkie-talkie, now!" He snatched it out of the kid's hand, looking over the device.

' _Short-range, means that there would be a base nearby_ '. He thought, before putting it away, aiming his gun at the children and pulling the trigger. They were dead even before they knew what was happening.

"What the hell are you doing, Rodriguez!?" Lauton yelled, not wanting to believe what he saw. One of the troops puked.

"Dealing with collaborators. You know the RoE*."

"But this-this is inexcusable!"

"What is? Eliminating threats to our men's well-being?" Rodriguez said coldly. Lauton wanted to argue, but as a soldier he agreed with the other Captain's point of view, as much as he hated it. The well-being of his men came first.

"Let's move on." He said, his mind reeling from Rodriguez's actions. The troop continued their march, as the Baron-Captain squeezed the trigger thrice. He turned around, only to find himself lying on the ground a moment later, his face aching. Dimly, he heard people shouting.

"Bastard! Only the worst of the worst kill children!" Herman hollered at the Baron, who lay in the dust. He was slowly getting up, wiping his reddened cheek. His men had targeted Herman, and the Atlesians had their sights on his friends. "I should know," Herman continued "I am one of the worst."

"What I do to secure the well-being of my men is none of your concern, you filthy fucking dog. And if you wish to secure the well-being of your allies, you will follow my every command. You do not want the Fang and the Vale Military-especially _me_ -to be your enemy. Get it?" He shouted, throwing out his cloak and revealing a sheathed sabre by his hip. Herman growled, yet lowered his chainsword. He'd take the Vale Captain to task later.

Every half-hour one of the two captains would call a halt, during which the infantrymen took positions and Herman was sent forward to clear the way. It appeared they had recognized his value as a killing machine. Sometimes he carved up Grimm, sometimes it was nothing.

Eventually, the sky turned a deep blue. This was evidently the signal to halt for the day; after sending Herman into the remnants of a hotel the two captains decided to make camp. A small fire was set up with the aid of a lighter and tiny tablets of fire dust, and the MREs were broken out. Much to his surprise, Lauton tossed three MREs at the Faunas.

"You've earned it." He said and turned back to converse with Rodriguez. The rest of the troop sat in one section of the boarded-up lobby, while Herman and his friends sat in one corner. From time to time he saw malicious looks and glares thrown at him by the Vale Guardsmen and the Atlesians; no doubt they had heard of his attacks in Atlas. He just sighed and turned towards his friends, their faces partially shrouded in darkness. They had nothing to say. Not even the cheery Beckendorf could muster a word, a joke to stave off the dreariness and dread this forsaken city seemed to inspire.

"That Faunas over there is the wanted terrorist? The dog who blew up an entire town?" Rodriguez said as he dug into his rice.

"Yes." Lauton replied, munching a cracker smeared with cheese.

"Why did you not tell me this sooner? We could've shot him and his friends and dumped them by the wayside? They could still be helping the Fang."

"Do you really believe that, after what he did to those soldiers by the road?"

"I don't know. He may seem only eighteen, but his eyes are older. The cold, cruel eyes of a desperate man, a man who will do anything." Rodriguez argued, his dark brow furrowed.

"You think I sympathize with him? He wiped out 60,000 people in one attack. But we cannot afford to take him down just yet. We still have our mission."

"I feel-" Lauton didn't know where the ex-Major Aurum came from "-you should let me follow him, keep tabs on him. If he dares look at us with a malicious gaze, I'll-" The operative said no more, instead just held up his dagger. Lauton thought about it.

"There is nothing better than to counter a specialist with another. Fine, keep an eye on him" He said.

Herman lay on the cold floor, his ears pricked up. He had heard every word. Well, he had Nihil, and if that Atlesian specialist tried harming his friends, there would be hell to pay.

Looking at his slumbering friends, Herman felt a warm feeling in his chest despite everything that Happened. They were all he had now, all he had left to live for. He wouldn't let them come to harm. His father had told him wanton slaughter was wrong, but Herman felt he ought not to be constrained by the ghosts of the past. It was his life now, his future, and what he did was his own business. He reached out, grasping Heidi's hand with his right and Beckendorf's with his left. He felt their fingers tighten around his. Content, he closed his eyes and slept a dreamless sleep.


	32. Inferno

Later that night, Commissar Petrenko Zheeliyony ascended the stairs of his impromptu command center-a mostly intact house-and to the roof. The home was situated on a hill five kilometers south of the industrial district, granting him a position from which he could observe the battle for the Dust refineries and the surrounding factories. His aide handed him a pair of binoculars, and he gazed upon the largest refinery. Occasional flashes lit up the area, revealing countless corpses. Whichever side won this battle would have to contend against the Grimm afterwards. That, and the terribly humid weather.

"Sir! Our fireteams have been pushed back to the southern quadrant and their retreat has been cut off! We are receiving reports of several huntsmen and armored support!" said a radioman, a short, stout man with the ear-tufts of an owl. At his side, a woman with a deer's antlers pored over a map, working on an assignment the Commissar had given her.

"What of squads B-2 and B-3?" The Commissar asked. The radioman shook his head.

"We lost contact with them. Sir, if we do not send re-enforcements we will lose-"

"I know that, you fool. Have the engineers returned from the refinery?" Zheeliyony snapped. With one hand gripping the binoculars, he reached inside his coat for a small black plastic device.

"You don't mean to..." The radioman trailed off, his ear-tufts raised apprehensively. The deer had also looked up from her work, letting out a little gasp.

"Have they returned, or not?" The Commissar asked. The radioman felt as if ice replaced his spine.

"Yes sir, but our men our still there, sir." He said after a length of time. There was an eerie silence, punctuated with the rattle of machine-gun fire in the background.

The Commissar smiled sadly, and pressed the switch. There was a loud boom, which afflicted everyone within a 10-kilometer vicinity with tinnitus. The milky-blue night sky lit up with a massive orange cloud rising upwards, leaving massive flames behind. Fed by raw and refined Dust alike, the inferno swelled to titanic proportions, melting steel beams and pipes. Asphalt turned to puddles, windows to silica. Men and machines were gobbled up by the firestorm, which rapidly crept out of the confines of the massive refinery and kept on spreading and eating. Grimm were vaporized as they blindly rushed away in panic, with massive hordes leading an exodus to 'safer' parts of town. Small chunks of blackened, twisted metal went hurtling through the air. One sailed right past Zheeliyony's head and buried itself in the floor, while an unfortunate Faunas to his right let out a gurgle and grasped his throat from which a small pipe-glowing from the heat-protruded.

Everyone turned away at the moment of detonation, blinded by the harsh light emitted by the flames. Only the Commissar did not flinch, staring coldly into the blaze. 950 Faunas-his Faunas, Faunas who trusted him-turned to ashes. He blinked, and a single tear made it down his scaly cheek.

"May Saint Oum grant them Heaven, may he have mercy on our souls." The snake prayed, making a symbol of a Dust crystal on his chest. At length, he turned away from the burning refinery and descended the stairs. The Major with deer's antlers followed him, clutching the map so tightly that it tore at the edge.

Four operatives sat at a table below, awaiting his arrival. Save for one, the rest did not stand up to salute at the Commissar's approach. It did not matter-they were all equals here.

Only one of the operatives wore the full regalia of the White Fang. The rest had an assortment of clothing, ranging from practical to somewhat bizarre.

The woman on the extreme left had unevenly-cut blonde hair and a narrow, pale face. Her eyes shone beetle-black, and her lips were tinged orange-red. She wore bile-yellow fatigues, ontop of which she had worn a full EOD suit. It had an opening cut at where her abdomen should be, save for the fact that a long elongated black-and-yellow tip spouted. She yawned, and flipped a sawn-off shotgun before catching it and sliding it into a holster.

The man to the extreme right-who had saluted-wore the above-stated White Fang uniform, mask and all. His chainsword lay in a sheath on his back, and he sat rapt with attention. His fingers drummed against the wood.

The other woman wore a loud magenta jumpsuit and black boots streaked with pink. She had a wide, massive face with deep set eyes. Her red lips protruded violently; they separated slightly and a long, folded tongue slithered out before being retracted. Her weapon was a pink-and-purple striped halberd as tall as her, and it had a built-in rifle right underneath the blade.

The man in the center had light brown skin, a shaven head and hazel-brown eyes. One of his soft feline ears were missing, the other was a tattered mess. The most striking feature was his right arm, which was metal, complete with synthetic muscles and joints. As he extended his hand to shake Zheeliyony's, actuators began to hum softly.

"Let's get down to business, for we haven't much time." The commissar announced as he unfurled the map, and skimmed over the plans of attack. Placing his finger on Richards Boulevard, he began to dictate orders.

"Raudona-" He indicated the woman in the jumpsuit "-will lead the main push north of this boulevard. Your objectives are to soften their defenses in this sector-you'll have sixty men and four half-tracks. It's all we can spare." At this the Lieutenant smirked, while Raudona furrowed her brow.

"The fire will force many civilians out on the streets-they are sure to cause a ruckus, perhaps impede our advance." She said, pressing her finger on the tip of her halberd.

"Then mow them down. You've got two machine-gun crews, they can easily match a hundred rifles. But try to keep Faunas casualties minimum-we're not savages." Now he turned his attention to the woman in the EOD suit.

"Biliare and the Lieutenant will lead fireteams Zoya and Charlie to the parliament and take hostage whatever government officials you find. I have on reliable information-" The commissar took a quick glance at the assassin "-that there are still Cabinet members along with a retinue of guards. Perhaps we shall be able to snag a few members of the Royal family. We succeed in this aim, and the Vale Guard will think twice about carrying out airstrikes on our territory."

"What about me?" The assassin grumbled, staring at the wall behind Zheeliyony.

"Your assignment-" A door crashed open, and in stumbled a bleeding officer of the White Fang. His mask was partly shattered, revealing a nose as sharp as a butcher's cleaver. He clutched his left leg, which was stained red.

"Zheeliyony, have you lost your goddamn mind! Our men were still there!" He hollered, limping in. A medic immediately rushed over to the wounded officer, but he was instantly shoved away. The officer shuffled towards the table and leaned heavily on it, leaving red trails on the floor. The commissar cursed, and reached into his coat pocket. His hand closed around a cold metal object, and a thick wire curled around his arm.

"Commissar, I will be reporting to Adam Taurus regarding your incompetence." Said the officer, breathing heavily. He had fallen to his knees, but kept staring at Zheeliyony.

"I gave you an order, Major. You were to hold the refinery at all costs. You were not to return unless it was properly secured. Yet you have fled your post." Zheeliyony coolly stared down the flabbergasted officer.

"It was hopeless, and you knew it!" The officer yelled, trying to get back up. Zheeliyony clutched the rope, feeling everyone's eyes on him.

"No, Major. What's hopeless is your expectation of being spared. You know the penalty for desertion." At this, the Major's eye dropped open and he fumbled at his holster flap.

He didn't get the chance. Zheeliyony's blade hissed through the air, and struck the Major clean between the eyes, splitting the mask. The Faunas' mouth remained open, and a foul smell was emitted from him as his bowels were released. Zheeliyony yanked on the steel rope, pulling the blade back to him and curling up on his arm. Bright red dripped along the Commissar's green, scaly skin.

For a long moment, no-one spoke. Then the assassin broke silence.

"What now?"

Zheeliyony looked at him and smiled.

"Now, my friend, we go on the offensive."

"After the task force returns from the refinery, I will need one quarter of them assigned to managing the refugees and sending them further up north. Admiral Kemp, escort ships will be required." Gaunt commanded. He tugged at his collar, allowing some much-needed air to slip in. This recent weather had been abominable, all hot and sticky. It sapped away at one's strength, and promoted inactivity.

It was a Joint Chiefs of Staff meeting, with General Gaunt (COAS), Fleet Admiral Kemp, Major General Flasheart of the Airforce, Major Rita Marrone, Colonel 'Vinegar' Joe Stillwell, and 'Smoky' Robinson, Chief of intelligence. The Colonel and Flasheart had arrived from the northern part of the Kingdom, where they assured Gaunt that fortified zones had been set up, and all but Prince Regis of the Royal Family were accounted for.

Gaunt looked over the surviving members of the army brass, his mind burdened with the immense task facing these few brave men. He closed his eyes and gave a tired sigh, before continuing.

"Intelligence indicates the Faunas have multiple small bases scattered across the city. Thus, our men will have to go room-from-room, clearing out the enemy. However, from your part, Flasheart-" He indicated the Air-force General, who was engrossed in brushing his blond mustachio, before stammering nervously and sitting at attention "-I need recon planes up, scouting Grimm concentrations."

"Rather obvious, Sir. The Grimm are mostly scurrying about Beacon, attracted by that dragon. The sheer number of them means that they are inevitably going to start descending on the city in force, where the fighting is at. Stranded refugees, wounded soldiers, field triage tents-they're all prime targets." Flasheart siad, running a finger through his moustache. Smoky let out a small groan of disgust.

"Heaven forbid we use Option A1." He muttered. Everyone looked at him, concerned. Gaunt shook his head.

"Absolutely not-we will try our damned best to ensure the Academy remains intact. Since we're on the topic, is the briefcase still with VP Aurora?" Gaunt asked, and Smoky shook his head in the affirmative. Clearing his throat, Gaunt continued.

"Stilwell, you will have to take your division up north, sweeping through the Western Residential districts and descending upon the industrial district. We must acquire those factories, they are vital to our war effort."

Just before Stilwell could respond, the door burst open, making Gaunt jump in his seat again. A panicked-looking Master Sergeant stood there, his slit-eyes dilated.

"What is it, Sergeant Hartman?" Vinegar asked.

"They've...they've... you've got to see this, Sirs!" He stammered before darting back out. Intrigued, the Chiefs of Staff rose and made their way out.

A large crowd had gathered around, pointing at the humongous orange-red blaze in the distance.

"It's coming from the industrial district!" Rita Marrone cried out in alarm.

"Anyone make it out?" Gaunt asked, alarmed. There was a sizeable number of men sent in there, along with hunters...

"No, sir. They were all in the Refinery when it exploded." Hartman replied, having gotten over his funk.

"How could the refinery explode! Those tanks and equipment were reinforced, with multiple safety-"

"The White Fang. They always find a way to fuck things up royally." Admiral Kemp said quietly, cutting off Flasheart's tirade.

"Sir, that fire will consume the factories, and it may spread! There are munitions, fuel supplies, multiple depots!" Vinegar cried out, flustered. His mind however was not on the depots, but his men who were turned to ash.

"Frankly, I'm surprised how all of you have become civil engineers." Gaunt growled, before continuing, "We've got a greater enemy to fight now. Flasheart, get your planes in the air. Marrone, gather up all the firemen on base, and whatever spare labor you can. I'll talk to Goodwitch, see if we can get any hunters to assist us with their fancy semblances. We must minimize the fire before it's too late. Kemp, begin relocation of resources ASAP."

Having received their orders, the officers saluted and dashed off to their posts. Gaunt stood there for a good long while, staring deep into the heart of the fire, his fists clenched.

The White Fang would pay dearly for this. He would not rest until every stinking member of theirs either dangled from the scaffold. Hell, he'd pull the lever himself.

-  
Within the main hall of the Church, Solarus knelt before a statue of his saint. It was only him, and his three companions; the rest had been evacuated to the army camp to the north. Uttering a prayer, he rose from the carpeted floor, feeling pain rocket through his joints. This recent weather had not been kind to his health, accentuating his knee problems.

 _"My legs are not what they were."_ He thought, rubbing his knees. Immediately Sister Nova came to his side with the ointment, and Solarus allowed her to help him to a pew before commencing treatment. The herbal treatment sapped away the pain, but Solarus knew the root cause was his age, and the fact that almost every night he had to patrol the barricades with a handful of volunteers, staving off the Grimm. His armour just put too much strain on his legs.

There was a large roar, causing the preacher to immediately rise from the pew. Sister Nova looked up curiously, and Brother Ollanius collected his shotgun before exiting. Gabriel stood at guard, wings folded as he peered through a crack in the massive doors. Curiosity getting the better of him, the aged priest exited the church and saw the root cause of the commotion.

"The fires of Hell itself have come to devour this city." Ollanius muttered, raising hs hand as to shield his eyes from the blaze.

"Father, what shall we do?" Gabriel asked, spreading his pristine-white wings. Ollanius and Nova looked at him anxiously, seeking his guidance as they had many, many years ago.

"We shall have to evacuate the remaining neighbourhoods, save as many as we can. Ollanius and Nova, you shall work with our disciples and assist them to move our relics across the canal. Gabriel, you shall come with me. Above all, we pray to our Lord in Heaven to grant us victory. May he bring strength to our arms, may he instill us with enduring will. Amen." He finished, raising his arms up to the overcast Heavens.

Aciero couldn't sleep again. She felt ill to the pit of her stomach, and even the bellows of the forge didn't soothe her. The entire day, she was grumpy and gave morose orders to Makellos as the little boy wandered about the workshop, working on various different little projects. When it was his bedtime, Aciero just sharply ordered him to sleep instead of gently tucking him in, as was their custom.

She felt guilty about that as she watched the child's chest rise and fall rythmically, and she knew why she was feeling so bad. The problem was that she couldn't do anything about it.

Sighing, she stared at an old photograph dangled before her by one of her mechanical arms. Two children; standing infront of a workshop. The girl was tall and well built, clad in oil-splattered suspenders and holding a wrench. The boy was short and chubby, looking morosely as he held his laptop close to his chest. _"Good old Eliphates, always had his computer with him."_ , she thought as her fingers-the fleshy, human ones stroked her brother's face. For days she had hoped to go into Vale, look for him, but the inferno had thrown all her fantasies of reunion out of the window. She shuddered, and stifled a sob before standing up and attaching a drill and a claw to her exoskeletan before heading out to work some more. It was her way of excorcising the pain.

Somewhere, Grauer awoke with his ears ringing, and found himself within the searing belly of Hell again.


	33. Tunnels

Chapter 31: Tunnel Rats

"Herman! Come on!" Heidi yelled, grabbing him by the hand and leading him through the burning doorway. Beckendorf raced by his side, sweating furiously.

Outside, the squads were rapidly advancing. Flames as tall as six-story hotels pressed in on them from all sides, creating heat so intense that even the foundation stones of buildings shattered. The walls of the factories closest to the refinery began to warp and blacken, as liquified chunks of ceiling came pouring down the sides.

The squads weren't the only ones trying to escape. Quite a few civilians had spilled out of their bolt-holes, unwilling to get baked like cakes in an oven. Herman stumbled into a woman carrying her squalling child, who began to cry more ferociously. Helping her up, he darted after the squads, his friends in tow.

Even the Grimm raced away from this all-consuming inferno. Yapping and squealing, a burning Beowolf collapsed onto a car before dissipating, while a pack of boarbatusks raced along the sidewalk, snorting and squealing. When Herman turned around to carve a few up, he swore he noticed multiple insidious-looking Grimm masks amidst the smoke and confusion. Beckendorf then grabbed Herman before he could get a better look, and the two raced after Heidi, who had taken a sharp right down Portland Street. Two soldiers stood near a subway entrance, frantically signaling them to follow. Behind them, a massive pack of Grimm amidst screaming civilians were rushing away from the flame.

They descended the escalator quickly and rushed forward into the dark entryway of the subway system, whereupon the steel shutters descended with a clang, sealing off the entry.

"Sixteen inches of steel-smart. The fire won't be eating through that anytime soon." One of the Atlesian soldiers said, smirking.

"Mate, it's a bloody Dust inferno. Cement melted, and the foundation stones of buildings blew up from the heat. You think a little bit of metal's going to stop it?" Beckendorf rebutted, wiping the soldier's smirk clean off.

"You five! Move up!" Rodriguez ordered. They proceeded to the Metro station, where half the lights were out and a bunch of ragged refugees were clustered about a table. Most prominent amongst them was a small wizened man with a wispy white beard and curled horns poking through the holes in his blue station master's hat. Lauton stood with him, engaged in conversation.

"Urk! Urk! Something lurks within these tunnels. It plagues our dreams, and takes one of us daily as tribute." Herman could hear him say. His voice was high and reedy, and made him want to punch the station master.

Multiple others joined the conversation, each offering their opinion as to what 'it' was-none very helpful.

"A cloud of shadows! Your worst nightmares come true!" Said one.

"It chills, sir, chills to the bone and the breath then freezes out of you." Interjected another.

"Bats! Many bats down here!" Another genius offered.

Herman could clearly see Lauton get increasingly pissed off beneath that helmet of his. They weren't spared hearing that 'it' takes people as tribute, especially children, that 'it' feeds on those who come in or stand watch at the end of the tunnel, and a certain Joel believed it to be a government program. The Specialist Robert Aurum twirled his gun, bored with the proceedings while Rodriguez went back and forth the station with his men, talking in lowered tones. Heidi yawned. Oliva began to fiddle with his weapon.

"Has anyone seen what it is?" Lauton asked, rapidly putting an end to the questions as the refugees looked at one another and shrugged. But the goat was not to be dissuaded.

"Urk! Urk! No, whosoever goes in never comes out. Urk!" The goat bleated.

"Has anyone kicked your arse, little goat?" Beckendorf said beneath his breath, loud enough so Herman could hear it. Apparently, he wasn't the only one who wanted to pummel the station master.

"Urk! Bleee!" The goat bleated, whether in agreement or disagreement, Herman could not tell.

"Just mark the route to the parliamentary square, and we'll make it. I'll even send some men back to you." Lauton ordered, pulling out a data pad and laying it on the table. The goat bleated nervously, and began to draw a map. After a few moments, he handed Lauton his scroll back, who proceeded to set it into his armor and face the group.

"Our route will take us through the main station up ahead and the subline 4km east of it. Then, we emerge topside Victory Avenue, and it's a straight walk down to the parliament. Got it? Let's move out."

The Atlesians tapped their helmets and walked straight into the darkness of the tunnels, followed by the Vale Guardsmen who had flashlights strapped beneath their gun barrels. Herman wandered in after him, keeping Beckendorf closes as his sharp animal senses adjusted to the musty darkness and foul smells. Mushrooms also dotted about beneath the wreckage, glowing slightly within the darkness. Herman could guess at exactly what provided the nutrients for their growth, and twitched his nose at their strong, heady, intoxicating smell.

"That isn't sewage, is it?" One of the soldiers said, aiming his torch at a bundle of tattered clothes.

"Very perceptive." Herman muttered, twitching his nose at the sweet sickly smell of decaying flesh. He glanced at Heidi, who had an extremely displeased expression as she looked at a shattered wall, with part of a train sticking out.

"How much of their tales was true, Captain Lauton? They seemed to firmly believe what they were saying." Rodriguez asked, his voice resounding through the darkness.

"Belief does not necessarily make something true." Lauton rebutted, scanning the area with IR. "Nothing here but a few bodies amidst wreckage, long decayed. We might fight some type of Grimm here, but that's it. Grimm fight directly, they don't play at mind games."

"Agreed-but I feel their blather had one nugget of truth." Rodriguez mused.

"What would that be?"

"There are definitely bats here." Rodriguez raised his flashlight, illuminating a few of said creatures which chittered malevolently and flew off over their heads, scraping against Oliva's helmet in the process.

Herman passed by a broken vent, and involuntarily shuddered at the memory of the crashed Atlesian ship. At least it had better lighting than this dump.

They kept moving, and Herman felt his eyes were barely adjusting to the darkness, which seemed to become even more constricting with every step. Nor was he the only one affecting-he heard wheezing coming from the front and Heidi's breathing to become laboured.

"Heidi? Are you okay?" Herman wanted to ask but the words stuck in his throat like wet cement. He coughed, and tried again but only managed to grunt. All the while, something darted in the corner of his eyes.

"Tulskaya Station, next stop." He heard someone call out, but wasn't able to make out who it was. Herman blinked again, and could barely see five feet ahead. The only indication that he wasn't alone was Beckendorf's tight grip on his backpack and Heidi's breathing till it grew louder and louder, fit to burst his ears.

Someone cried out in front, and voices of consternation were raised. Herman could make out a few snippets of conversation.

"The spiders! Uck, I hate their beady little eyes!" Someone yelled.

"Something's opening and closing...oh, Oum, not the scissors..." Yet another's voice trailed off into the dark.

"Sssh! They'll hear us!" A man shouted in the dark with a nervous giggle.

"Evangeline!" Came a man's delirious shout.

Herman felt a deliciously dangerous electric jolt run up his spine, and felt his eyes burn.

"Mama...sister..." He heard Heidi whimper, and instantly jerked his head around.

But he couldn't see her. Nor could he see Beckendorf. As a matter of fact, he could not see the circular outline of the station walls or the metal tracks glinting in the dark. It was just him, encapsulated in a shroud of darkness. Heidi's breathing had stopped.

Herman felt the wet lump of cement in his throat quickly solidify, and he quickly looked around, trying to get his bearings. His heart was hammering so hard it could burst out of his chest. All the while, he heard strange stirring whispers all while the current in his spine amped up and the flames in his eyes grow hotter. Something brushed against his spine.

He whipped around, and found himself at home. But something was wrong. The fire was out, the windows shattered, and an icy chill spread across the wooden floor. Something was sitting in a large wicker chair, but the dark shadows were unyielding.

"Who are you?" Herman asked, with trepidation in his heart. For a long time, he got no response, until the thing glared at him with its red eye, and answered in a voice that rattled in Herman's brain and shook his bones.

"Fear...we are fear. You are, too." It said.

"What?" Herman asked, scarcely believing his ears.

"You have lived in fear, on the battlefield and off it. You fear for your life, for your compatriots. The fear of others stimulates you. It has shaped you. It has become you, and you it."

Herman grunted, and unsheathed Nihil. He didn't care what sort of Grimm this was, he'd kill it all the same. The thing cackled, sending sparks and shivers up his spine.

"Your efforts shall be in vain. You cannot kill part of yourself." The thing immediately melted away, and was replaced by the PMC. But this time, Herman was not afraid of him. He only felt anger. The PMC chuckled, revealing the ghastly row of sharp rocks he called teeth. He rose from his seat, causing Herman to tense up and assume a defensive position with his sword. Ignoring the Faunas, the PMC nonchalantly walked over and parted the curtains, revealing Vale in its current state. Scores of Nevermores and Gryphons circled the city; within the epicentre of this dark cloud was a larger, more sinister shape.

"City's perfect for you. Plenty of negativity to feed off. You're little better than the Grimm." The PMC chuckled. It was a harsh, unpleasant sound.

"Again with this? I'll make my amends, and take whatever punishment is in store for me." Herman lowered Nihil and spat at the PMC. He had heard all this before, but he had moved on. The PMC was only a distant memory by now, but Herman still felt trepidation and unease.

"The only punishment for your lot is death. Are you satisfied with that, condemning your friends to damnation? Especially your lovely lady friend, who you coerced into joining your side?" The PMC began to cough, spraying yellow and red spittle everywhere.

"What the hell do you mean by that?" Herman shouted. He hadn't forced Heidi...or had he? He did show her the truth...and she made her decision on that. The PMC, sensing his doubts, smiled again.

"You broke her will, showing her the horror. You also showed her the consequences of her own actions. You shake your head in disbelief now, but when you wake up, just ask her; was it fear of what you might do next that made her switch sides, or the truth?"

Herman stood there, stunned. He hadn't really asked Heidi what she felt when he used his Semblance, but then again he had used it on others and they didn't break down. Well, save for that strange girl aboard the Atlesian ship, who lowered her defence as Herman probed her sensation of loss and grief, but-

"Fear is your weapon. You're a parasite, probing into men's minds to find their darkest, deepest fears and leaching off it for your own empowerment." The PMC stated bluntly. Herman felt his veins pound dangerously. He revved up Nihil and charged at the PMC, who dissipated in a cloud of black dust. It swarmed him, penetrating his eyes, his nose, his ears, and when he opened his mouth to scream the dust came rushing in and down his trachea, bursting his lungs to shreds of red, ciliated tissue and cartilage-

Herman opened his eyes, the stench of mushrooms thick in his nostrils. The dizzy wolf looked around, and found himself within the very same tunnels, unable to move. Heidi sat directly in front of him, swaddled up in a sticky tar-like substance. The tip of Gratia Venti's handle protuded from the sheath, towards Herman. There was a weight on Herman's chest and something thin and hard was poking his chin. Looking down, He saw Beckendorf's head on his chest. The action had caused the antler to slide up his chin and nearly poke out his eye. Herman made a mental note to tell his friend to file those antlers down.

Slightly ahead of Heidi, he could see three of Rodriguez's squad, and to his left he saw Lauton and Oliva. They were bound in the same substance as Heidi, and Herman thrashed about trying to escape his bonds.

A wet cracking noise came from his right, followed by slurping. With great difficulty Herman rotated his neck, and saw something hunched over the body of an Atlesian soldier. A large portion of his helmet was missing, as was the top part of his skull, revealing the red within.

The creature was long and thin, with eight spindly legs and a long, pulsating tongue riddled with red-green ulcers. It did not have any eyes either, and Herman watched with horror as the long tongue snaked into the soldier's brain.

He sure as hell wasn't going to let this beast snack on his brains. Herman looked about, searching for something to cut the bonds with. Nihil was bound firmly to his back, and the next sharpest thing was Gratia Venti, which was a few tantalizing centimetres away. Heidi mumbled and sobbed in her sleep, and leaned back a little, bringing the blade a few millimetres closer. Softly cursing, Herman leaned as far as his bonds would allow. Now his nose was lightly touching the blade's cold hilt.

Trying not to let the slurping noises distract him, Herman bared his teeth and sprung forward slightly, trying to grab the hilt. Once, twice, thrice he failed. On his fifth time, with his jaw straining, he finally got a mouthful of cold steel and leaned backwards, pulling the blade out with a hiss.

It swung like a pendulum, barely missing Beckendorf's nose and almost slashed his antler had the reindeer not tilted his head. Instead, the blade's tip sank smoothly into the black goo, and stayed there. Herman now began to bob his head up and down, jiggling the blade from its held position. Soon enough, the sticky black substance began to part, and a breeze of foul metro air entered the said partition. Encouraged by his progress, Herman began to saw more vigorously, freeing his legs and right arm. With a muffled grunt, he freed himself from the stickiness and stood up, Beckendorf's head sliding off his chest as he did so.

"Whaddya mean, we're non-canon..." The fool of a Reindeer murmured in his sleep. Herman held his breath, hoping the beast had not been alerted.

The slurping stopped-but Herman wasn't waiting for it to leap at him. He dived out from the remaining bonds, and extended his sword arm towards the beast. It halted in its tracks, surveying the opponent before suddenly leaping up into the dark depths of the tunnel which even his eyes could not penetrate.

Instead, he shut his eyes and focussed on filtering out the foul stench, training his ears to register any movement. Above him, bricks scraped.

Herman leapt out of the way as the monster came plummeting down, hoping to decapitate him with its razor-sharp claws. He cut diagonally, slicing off one appendage, and the beast howled in rage before scuttling backwards and firing off a glob of sticky black stuff from its bulging abdomen. Herman felt it hit his sword-hand with the strength of a freight train, knocking Gratia Venti out of his hand and staggering him so his right hand ended up pinned to the wall.

The creature approached, its hideous tongue hanging out in glee when all of a sudden, Captain Rodriguez rushed from the shadows, wielding his sabre. It was long and thin and the colour of the blade was milk-white, shining in the darkness. The Captain had thrown out his green cloak, revealing a thin brown scabbard with gold lacquer hanging from his hip.

The Captain powerfully thrust downwards, impaling the creature through its abdomen. It squealed in pain, and smashed him in the face with three legs, the sharp talons slicing off a bit of his cloak. Even then the Captain remained undeterred; he pulled out the sabre and proceeded to harass it, narrowly dodging its furious swipes.

Herman grunted and freed his hand just as Rodriguez got unlucky and got smashed right in the face, dropping him like a sack of potatoes. The Grimm leapt upon the Captain, ready to disembowel him but quickly looked left.

It took three long strides for Herman to reach the beast; within that time he had Nihil out and ready. With one clean sweep he sent its head flying off and into the darkness. The rest of the body twitched, and keeled over, dissipating.

Rodriguez got up, dusting off his front before withdrawing his sabre and cleaning it with his cloak.

"Lucky hit. I'm getting way too old..." He muttered, but Herman did not reply. The rest had begun to wake up from their nightmares, groaning and muttering. Beckendorf in particular was ecstatic to see Herman.

"I had the most terrible dream, man. In it our existence was mere text, our fates dictated by a person typing away. Brrr." He shuddered as he was cut loose.

Heidi remained silent, her eyes cold. Herman felt his heart rise to his throat as she coolly accepted his hand, before leaning forward and sobbing into his shoulder.

"I want my mama." She wept, and Herman stood there, still as a statue. He could defuse explosives, wire explosives, fire different types of weapons and emplacements with perfect accuracy, and kill with ease. But he couldn't find anything to say to this woman, or do anything to comfort her. Finally, he decided to hug her and pull her closer, before finally breaking off.

"Thanks, Herman." She sniffled, and some of the warmth returned to her brilliant apple-green eyes. He smiled rather awkwardly, and they set off to their exit destination with the rest.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"And we ne'er saw them again. Urk." The stationmaster stoked the blazing fire, and periodically rotated the spit. He shook his head as he looked about the abandoned station, before settling his gaze on the last three survivors.

Deciding.

"Is the meat ready?" One asked eagerly, the other two looking at him with glazed eyes. Hunger tightened their bellies, making the grips on their knives ever firmer. This new man was short and chubby-the stationmaster longing gazed at him, wondering if his flesh would be sweet like caramel or salty...like salted caramel. Mmm. Salted caramel. Drool dripped from his wet beard.

"Yes, the beef is ready." The station-master answered in a monotone. The chubby one reached forward eagerly as the station-master cut off a slice and extended it to him on the end of a rusty spike. The greedy pig reached forward with his mouth, not wanting to spoil his hands, extending his throat.

It was decided, then. A quick swipe, and the chubby one fell forward, blood spurting from the cartoid artery. Some drops fell in the fire and sizzled.

"There'll be good eating, lads." Rasped one other, who produced a little skull from the depths of his rags and began to make faces at it. Needless to say, the station-master was miffed. He had told him to throw it away.

"Put out the fire and stow away the body-" His sentence wasn't finished when the hastily erected barricade at the end of the tunnel blew open, and four soldiers casually strolled in. One was a veritable titan, sporting a massive grenade launcher. Frozen in panic, the three cannibals could only stare as the Atlesians walked closer. The little skull dropped from Rasp's hands.

"Huh. I thoug' there were more of you last time I passed through. Where are the women an' children?" Oliva asked, but his question was soon answered when he saw the skull and the dead fat man. In one corner, he could see a bundle of rags on which a little red thigh lay.

"Oh. Light 'em up, lads-seems like we found some Grimm."


	34. Victory Ave

Chapter 32: Victory Avenue

It was hot and muggy when they emerged, and not just because of the inferno on the horizon. The sky was clear, but far off east there was a cluster of grey clouds hovering beneath the blood red sun, which had just begun to set beneath a pair of hills. A dragonfly buzzed near Herman's cheek. Sweat dripped from his silvery-grey hair, and he found himself longing for the alpine forests of Atlas.

This was it then, the famous Victory Avenue. The Vale Guard held regular parades down this wide, well-paved street, lined with palm branches imported from Vacuo. Further down, near the parliamentary buildings were four monuments made of shiny marble, inlaid with gold lettering to commemorate the fallen. Above them all, instead of a boring old archway entrance to the Parliamentary Square was a twenty-foot tall statue of the Warrior King, who gazed down upon all comers as they marched between his legs to the square. In one hand he held a shield bearing the green insignia of Vale, in the other he gripped a sword, thrust into the skies. On each side of the entry were 12-foot steel barriers, adorned with barbed-wire and spikes. However, shelling had opened massive breaches in the security barrier, as well as damaging one of the monuments.

Multiple White Fang were also present, some idly patrolling the street as others sat under the shade of the trees, fanning their faces. A half-track was parked near the King of Vale's statue, atop which sat a bright yellow figure. Rodriguez's face was contorted in anger, and Lauton had to grip his Vale counterpart by the shoulder.

 _"Damn animals."_ Rodriguez thought, hoping that they weren't too late. He turned away, and signaled for two of his men to remain near the sewer entrance before tapping Lauton on his helmet.

"I've scouted a route to the square." Lauton said calmly, still staring ahead.

"You'll have to leave the big guy back with my men. His massive profile will attract attention." Roudigrez pointed at Oliva, who was lying as low as possible behind a marble pillar. Lauton pursed his lips, before sending Oliva a message via his helmet communicator. The large soldier saluted before crawling back with two Atlesians, to the Metro entrance. Now it was Lauton, Rodriguez, three Atlesians, three Vale Guardsmen, Aurum, Herman, Heidi and Beckendorf.

"We'll have to move quickly. Rodriguez muttered, and Lauton nodded in agreement. Signaling at the remaining members to follow. Aurum looked like he wanted to say something, but the sudden pace of the squads forced him to follow. He settled for throwing the occasional angry glance at Herman and Co., confusing the lot.

Meanwhile, the White Fang Lieutenant leaned against the half-track. He had partly lifted his mask, due to the heat and was guzzling pickled onions, waiting for his search parties to return.

"You know, I don't quite understand how you eat that stuff." Biliare said, wrinkling her nose at the smell. The Lieutenant said nothing, and continued to greedily guzzle the greasy morsels.

"It keeps well in this heat." He said after a while, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. Biliare clasped her head, and tugged at her EOD suit.

"And whose fault is that?" She said, trying to fan herself. "Who blew up the refinery, hmm?"

"Give the fire two or three days, and it'll burn out. The weather is changing, that's the problem. You ought not to have worn that hideous armor." He replied, lowering his mask. He sighed with impatience-how long could it possibly take to locate a handful of pesky parliamentarians?

"Oh really? Would you have preferred it if I wore something else?" She asked playfully, leaning forward with her hands propped up underneath her chin. The Lieutenant sighed and shook his head.

"I'd prefer if you wore something less clunky and less visible to snipers."

"I'd prefer if you'd have a better fashion sense." She shot back, causing the 2nd Lt. to grip his mask in frustration.

"By Oum, I wish those men would hurry up so we can liberate this blasted city." He groaned, leaning against the hot metal of the half-track. Biliare dropped down as well, seeking shade from the sun's rays.

"Still on about that liberation business? I have no idea if you're unbearably naive or plain stupid." At that, the 2nd Lt. raised his mask and glared at her, making her quiver beneath his gaze.

"So, uh, have your men secured the place?" She said nervously, eyeing his chainsword. She only had her shotgun with a bayonet, and wasn't eager to get into CQC with him. Fortunately, he lowered his mask and nodded.

"Aye. For any enemy to reach the parliamentary square they'd have to evade multiple patrols, sneak through manned gaps in the fences, not to mention avoid the gaze of my snipers manning the rooftops of the parliamentary buildings. Then they'll need to get past my squads and the MG emplacement in the north building."

Meanwhile, the crew managed to make their way down the avenue unseen, slit a sleeping guard's throat and made their way past a gap in the fence, and lay crouched in the shrubbery while Heidi, Aurum and a sharpshooter from Rodriguez's team dealt with the snipers who weren't taking shelter from the heat. It turned into something of a competition, with Heidi coming out on top and Aurum a close second.

The square itself was unremarkable, with a fountain and one large building. It had multiple small white spires, projecting above green tiled roofs which sloped sharply downwards. Stained glass was extensively used, and there were multiple buttresses, with statuary carved atop them. Bombardment had left craters in the square, and the building itself had a large hole in the roof. Herman could hear Rodriguez grind his teeth, but the Captain kept his composure and led them through strategically planted tree-groves and twisting mazes of alabaster statues until they reached a back entrance. The guard on duty there lay on the steps, bottle in hand and snoring loudly.

Other patrols were either sleepily walking about, dazed by the heat or had taken shelter. One Faunas, with the scales of an alligator lay upon the sunbaked flagstones, trying to warm his cold blood. None of them noticed the group.

"Night." Rodriguez muttered, plunging his sword into a Faunas before opening the door for the rest to follow.

At one point the interior had been beautiful, magnificent even, but now it was in wrecks. Shelves, tables and benches lay fragmented and broken, overturned by roving packs of WF soldiers. Evidently they had been searching for something, but had gotten distracted by the well-stocked cellar downstairs if the empty vintage bottles littered about were anything to go by. Behind a bench, a WF soldier twirled and swayed, shouting obscenities at his drunken comrades.

"Starkle, starkle, little twink..." Came another melodious voice from the rafters, and a few brown feathers floated down.

"Down the stairs, quickly." Rodriguez commanded as they passed below a raised platform and into the darker, cooler section of the basement. Here there were multiple ransacked offices, file cabinets pulled out and the entrance to the wine cellar was wide open. The stench of expensive booze hung thick in the air, and Herman found it a pleasant change from the stench of the metro. Well, aside from the drunk WF everyone, lying amidst the corpses of fallen Vale Guards. Blood intermingled with wine on the cold stone floor. It must've been some strong stuff.

Roudigrez lead them slowly through the basement, until they reached a little alcove in the wall. He crouched, and ran his fingers along the grey stones, before his hands clenched around a small rock. It noislessly slid out, revealing a scroll mounted within. Fishing inside his vest, he pulled out a flattened battle-axe, the color of jade. The rest watched with bated breath, especially Heidi, Beckendorf and Herman.

The alcove split into two segments, and receded into the walls. Inside, the lights lit up, revealing a silvery-grey hallway which sloped downwards to a set of doors, with the symbol of Vale emblazoned on them in gold. In the sudden flash of light, Herman could see Rodriguez smile.

"This some proper spy stuff, innit?" Beckendorf muttered, gripping his shotgun. "After my little bizarre adventure is over," he thought ", I'll probably just settle down and write a fuckin' book about this. I've been shot at, chased by Grimm and spat upon by humans enough to have any more adventures of this sort. Maybe Herman will settle with-"

"'Dorf. Spaced out there?" Heidi tapped the reindeer on the shoulder, and indicated the now-open doorway. But there was only one problem for the deer.

He walked forward, and felt a great force pressing against his antlers, preventing his from moving through. He looked up and resisted the temptation to curse loudly-his bloody antlers would not fit! Beckendorf rotated his head, trying to find an acceptable angle of entry but failed miserably. Sighing, he flopped against the entrance.

"Just go on without me." He muttered, and Heidi tutted sadly before moving along with Herman.

Meanwhile, Rodriguez and Lauton stepped into the darkened room. It had a dark-green carpet, concrete walls and nothing much else, save for a small red door at the end.

Save for six Vale Guards who stood at the ready in front of said door, rifles raised, but upon seeing Rodriguez they immediately snapped into a salute.

"At ease, men. How is the Prince, and the rest of the Barons?"

"Right behind this door, sir." The leader said, opening it. Rodriguez hurried in, holstering his rifle.

Inside was a room similar to the one they had just entered, except that this one had eight people inside. Three were clearly Atlesian diplomats from the looks of it; starched white trousers and jackets, with gold filigreed trim and to top it all off, snobby looks and upturned noses. When one of them saw Herman and Heidi, his long face twisted into an expression of disgust and shock. Herman growled softly, prompting Heidi to put her hand on his shoulder.

"Try not to kill people, Herman. At least try, and set a good example for the rest of us." She said in a re-assuring tone.

Lauton and Aurum immediately rushed over to the Atlesian diplomats and took them to one corner, engaging in hushed tones of conversation. Meanwhile, the four adults in the room, all in business suits stared at Captain Roudigrez, their faces in shock. One, a tall woman with almost translucent skin protectively gripped a black briefcase. Herman couldn't tell what was going on, but judging by the looks on the 'Baron's' faces they weren't expecting them.

"Barons? What's up with that?" He asked Heidi. He really didn't know much about the politics of Vale, having lived on a farm all his life. What did the day-to-day dealings of the government have to do with him anyway? The most exposure Herman had was when the taxman came a-knocking, or when health inspectors showed up.

"Well, only landed families of note can vote, and send people into the parliament. What constitutes and eligible family usually depends which faction is in power. Usually it's those with a certain amount of land, factories and men who can be supplied at a moment's notice. One big militia." She explained, giving Herman some food for thought.

"Huh. Seems like an ideal system for inter-family rivalries and political backstabbing to override reasons of state. I'm kinda surprised you know all this, Heidi."

"Assassination targets are made on the basis of how much political impact they have." She said nonchalantly, though in a lowered tone.

A little kid dressed in a dark green ceremonial military dress, embroidered with gold sash broke the awkward silence between the Barons and Rodriguez. He peeped out from behind the woman's leg, his little green eyes clouded with confusion. He was thin as a stick, and snot dribbled from his tiny nose. Still, when he saw Rodriguez his face split into a smile and he ran forward at the man, who knelt to receive him. In that one moment, Herman saw this cold man's facade break. He who had killed surrendering children was now embracing a kid, tears streaming down his pockmarked face.

Herman couldn't tell if he was facing a hypocrite bigger than him or a really motivated person.

"Uncle!" The kid squealed, and the tension in the room deflated like a balloon when the air is let out of it. Two even smiled and walked forward, although the woman kept behind, tightly holding onto the briefcase.

"A pleasant surprise this is, Baron Rodriguez." One of the men said, warmly shaking the Vale Captain's hand.

"Oh, did I mention the officer corps has seats reserved for the landed gentry?" Heidi rolled her eyes and tipped the visor of her helmet downwards. Herman, feeling sheepish and unwanted stepped back with her, but just as Baron Rodriguez released the boy, he came running up to Herman.

"Are you a Faunas?" He asked, staring wide-eyed. Meanwhile, Rodriguez immediately jerked around, hand on sword hilt. Aurum had also drawn his pistol, and Herman felt all eyes on him.

"Yes." He replied evenly, fingers twitching and spine tingling. "Close your mouth, you'll get flies in it." He added.

"Wow! I've never seen a Faunas!" He exclaimed, ignoring Herman.

"Figures." Heidi muttered, and the kid was transfixed by the swish of her tail.

"Woah! Are you a dog? Can you do tricks?" Heidi audibly growled at that one, causing fear to become apparent on several Baron's faces.

"Prince Celadon, step away from the Faunas!" Rodriguez called out to the Prince, but in the time-honored fashion of children, he did not listen to his elders.

"Why are you two so filthy?" Now Herman really couldn't take it.

"That's how you treat us, kicking our lot to the bottom and keeping us down when we try to rise." He said loudly, paraphrasing one of Commissar Zheeliyony's speeches. There was silence, and one of the Atlesian diplomats muttered something about 'impertinent animals'.

"I heard that, you Atlesian fuck! You wanna hear why you've got the Faunas up in arms?" He faced the trio, his gauntlet clenched. Lauton hesitantly raised his rifle, while Aurum stood with his arm extended and pistol ready.

"Careful, Grauer." Lauton warned. Though he knew of the way Faunas were segregated in the Atlesian army, and given the worst accommodation and treatment, and how they mainly inhabited 'reservations' in Atlas, he couldn't allow his feelings to control him. He had orders to carry out.

"As much as I'd like to debate Faunas rights, we cannot ignore the fact that we're still behind enemy lines, and we've got a long way to travel. So, stow it, and move it." Baron Roudigrez ordered, his dark eyes flashing dangerously. With that, he swiftly strode out of the door, and the rest sheepishly followed while the Atlesian diplomats held their noses high and kept away from Herman and Heidi. One almost shrieked when Beckendorf got up, but fortunately kept his composure.

The annoying little prince kept staring at Herman, wide eyed and open mouthed. Herman flushed slightly-he wasn't a damn animal in a zoo, and the temptation to smack the kid was growing by the second.

The larger group retraced their steps, but such a large number was naturally unable to conceal the noise they made. A normal human would've strained their hearing, but these were Faunas. Roused by the thundering footfalls rattling across the wooden floor, a Faunas perked up his matted brown ear and saw the very people he was looking for exit through the back door.

Groggy, he stepped up only to trip across a wine bottle and go stumbling down the stairs into the open air. Gosh, it was hot outside. He drunkenly traipsed across the courtyard, stumbling hither and thither before he miraculously ended up in front of Biliare and the 2nd Lt., who had been watching his antics for quite some while. The soldier saluted, before puking all over his uniform.

"Quit disgracing yourself soldier, and tell me why the hell haven't you returned with the HVTs?" The 2nd Lt. barked.

"Uhh...ughhh...many, many bad guys, take the HVTs...gah..." The 2nd Lt. shook his head and smacked the Faunas, who drunkenly fell over to his side. At the same time, Biliare was watching wide-eyed as she caught the glimpse of something very interesting. Fifteen or so very interesting things, about to pass by a shelled-out section of the fence. Gold filigree glinted beneath the blazing sun, drawing the 2nd Lt.'s attention.

"Come on!" He shouted, revving up his chainsword, "We can't let them get away!"

Roudigrez had just stepped over a fence when he heard the revving of a chainswod. First, he turned back, scowling at Herman-but the Faunas had not unsheathed his weapon. More to his annoyance, he saw Price Celadon skulking about with that pathetic lot, staring slack-jawed at their faces. He was just about to say something when two of his men at the front cried out in pain, and he saw everyone else's faces turn to surprise and panic. He looked forward.

Two of his men lay screaming in the dirt, clutching at their reddened skin as it rapidly disintegrated and came off in red shreds. Right above them stood an imposing figure in full EOD gear, the only exposed part being round its stomach, where a long thin black appendage poked out. Yellow fluid dripped from the 'Nozzle'. In addition to that, it also gripped a 12-gauge pump action shotgun with a vented heatshield and bayonet. In the other hand, it held a grenade, one that was rapidly glowing yellowish-white. By its side stood and equally imposing figure, clad in the standard white and black of the White Fang. He wielded a massive, two handed chainsword, and Herman felt the 2nd Lt.'s gaze upon him.

"I thank you for bringing the oppressors to me. Know that before you die-" The 2nd Lt. revved up his chainsword "-you have served the Faunas' cause well."

Roudigrez drew his sword, and Lauton's men raised their rifles and stepped in front of the diplomats. The Barons of Vale proved not to be wilting lilies, though; within a moment each without fail had pulled out semi-automatic pistols, boasting a modular design and chambered with .45 ACP rounds. The woman with the briefcase took a step back, and the Prince instinctively ducked behind one of the Barons closest to Herman. Heidi had her dual swords at the ready, while Beckendorf spat and loaded a shell into his shotgun.

"Seems like you've chosen to draw out your deaths." The 2nd Lt. drawled, assessing the situation. Though the three turncoats made his blood boil, he kept his composure. They could not be allowed to take part in this battle, oh no. Looking at the King's statue that loomed above them, he tapped Biliare's shoulder and turned her towards the towering statue. Beneath her mask, she grinned. The grenade was ready.

Roudigrez was done with waiting. He charged forward, just as Biliare chucked the grenade at the statue. Everyone watched in horror as the resulting shockwave turned the very sky orange, and caused massive cracks to appear in the King's neck and chest. The very stone groaned, and slowly but surely it began to topple right down on the combined party. Aurum grabbed two diplomats and darted forward, and Lauton grabbed the remaining diplomat, throwing himself forward with his men. Most of the Barons also threw themselves forward, but forgot one important thing.

Prince Celadon was standing right in the middle, watching open mouthed as stone chunks of his great-great-great grandad came tumbling down upon him. Herman shoved his friends back, and for reasons unknown to him, he leapt forward. He grabbed the prince, swiftly unsheathed Nihil with one hand, slicing through a 5-foot section of the statue before leaping back and out of harm's way. The entire action had taken no more than a few seconds, but Herman could not celebrate. The explosions had woken up the slumbering troops, who came rushing out from the building, bumping, tripping and making a general mess of things.

Still, Herman did not entertain the idea of fighting with this kid to worry about, so he snatched up the prince and went sprinting off to the right, his friends right behind him. Herman sheathed Nihil and carried the kid in both arms, leaping right over a section of the fence, and the three of them landed smack in a WF patrol. Taking advantage of the confusion, he kicked aside a confused soldier and went darting off towards a marketplace.

Meanwhile, Rodriguez was trying his best not to lose his mind. Fiery-hot hatred blazed through his mind as he gazed upon the fallen statue, and his missing-or dead nephew. He heard a woman's laughter, which only served to intensify his rage.

He got up, shaking the dust off him as he brandished his sword once more. The woman in the EOD suit laughed, and the 2nd Lt. advanced, chainsword whirring. Meanwhile, Aurum had also gotten up and he walked up next to Roudigrez.

"I'll take the filthy animal with the chainsword-you deal with the woman in the EOD suit." He hissed, flipping the dagger from one hand to the other. Behind the two opponents, he could see more soldiers running down the streets, weapons at the ready. A half-track's engine started up, and the vehicle began to rumble down the street.

"Ready?" Rodriguez asked, drawing a path in the air with his sword.

"As I'll ever be." Aurum said, gripping his dagger as he assesed his opponent.

"Let's make these animals pay."


	35. Battle for Victory Ave

Chapter 33: Battle for Victory Ave

The Baron-Captain and the disgraced Specialist rushed together, the sun glinting off their blades. Biliare smiled, pumping the shotgun as 2nd Lt. revved his chainsword. Time seemed to slow down, and as she raised the shotgun, she felt a massive force bowl into her from behind, knocking her off-balance. Faintly aware of the intense heat on the back of her suit, she looked up to see the Baron driving his sabre sharply downwards at her chest. Her ears rang faintly, and she didn't have her shotgun anymore.

But she did have one thing. Her abdomen itched and twitched, and she felt a familiar burning bubble in her stomach. Hydroquinone and hydrogen peroxide combined to release a hot noxious chemical spray, hitting the Baron straight in the face. He dropped the sabre, which fell at Biliare's feet, and himself stepped back, wiping away the chemicals with the edge of his green cloak.

The 2nd Lt. had also been knocked aside by the explosion, but he quickly leapt back onto his feet, just in time to parry the first few furious swipes directed at his throat by the specialist. He kicked at the specialist, who nimbly rolled right next to the Faunas before performing a leg sweep and once more bringing the 2nd Lt. to his knees. He fired four shots at the 2nd Lt.'s hands and feet, encasing them in ice before leaping atop him, dagger poised to penetrate the Faunas' throat. Grunting in anger, the 2nd Lt. tossed his head back, feeling the bones in his neck crack before headbutting Aurum straight in the nose, who flew back, his weapon falling from his hands. The hot sun melted the ice encasing his hands and feet somewhat, and he clenched his fist, yanking it upwards and breaking the ice. He then used his free hand to smash the other blocks of ice, sending splinters of ice flying everywhere.

As this happened, Captain Lauton ushered the diplomats and the parliamentarians to cover behind one of the monuments as the White Fang troops harassed them from behind and from the front. The ones who rushed from the parliament were poor shots owing to their drunken condition, firing of shots wildly. Several had arranged themselves into an infantry firing line-albeit a disorganized one-reminiscent of the ball and musket days. Some of their own men keeled over, screaming in agony and causing general consternation amongst the drunken ranks of WF. Unfortunately, the ones who had been patrolling the street were pretty good shots. Bullets knocked off chunks of marble and one nearly hit Lauton in the helmet. However, his men and the Vale Guard were holding off the enemy-for now.

Meanwhile, Oliva marched down the avenue, the barrel of his grenade launcher smoking. He knew it was a risky shot, and Lauton would berate him for it, but at least it had brought results. The Atlesians by his side darted for cover, laying down fire on the enemy forces and cutting through them like a scythe through wheat. Oliva himself took a few shots, but he knew his armor could handle it.

The half-track's gunner turned about, .50 caliber aimed at Oliva. He had no time to dodge, only to fire. The 50mm HE grenade was perfectly aimed, leaving a white trail in the air as it spiraled towards the engine of the vehicle. An orange flame blossomed from the area of impact, consuming the half-track and the gunner, but not before the gunner was able to fire off a burst in the Atlesian's direction. Oliva felt a searing hot blow shatter his armor, before entering the skin and along with metal splinters. He couldn't feel his right kneecap any more, and found himself on one knee as something warm dribbled down his leg. Gritting his teeth, pushing against the pain, he reached for his grenade launcher and turned to face the enemy, firing round after round, watching the white smoke trails and resulting orange explosions, even as two more rounds punched into his stomach. Only after the pain grew too much for him to bear did the massive Atlesian fall onto his back, his weapon falling from his numb fingers. He lay in the dusty road, staring up at the uncaring sun, his chest slowly rising and falling.

"Oliva is down! Oliva is down!" Lauton cursed as he in-built radio squawked, but he soon had other problems to deal with. The hail of fire directed by the not-drunk White Fang troops had forced them to take cover behind the monument, not being able to return fire. As they huddled there suppressed, two squads of WF had managed to flank them and they were now taking fire from three sides. The diplomats lay prone, ears covered as the Barons tried to seek whatever cover they could, every once in a while, firing off a few shots. The pale skin woman kept the briefcase behind her, as if it was more worth protecting. The smell of burning Dust was thick in the air, and the constant rattle of gunfire drowned out all voices. One of Lauton's men grasped his chest and fell against the monument, his blood leaving a stark red trail against the bullet holed marble. They needed to move fast, or else they'd die here.

"This is ATL-546! I repeat, this is ATL-546! We are pinned down at Victory Avenue, with multiple HVTs! We require support!" Lauton screamed into his radios, changing the frequency to the Vale military's. A few frequency numbers showed up on his display, though the gunfire drowned out whatever came through. He could send, but not receive.

Meanwhile, 8 kilometers away, Colonel Stilwell sat in his command APC, listening to the Atlesian's panicked reports. Unclenching his fists, he furrowed his brow, and began to issue orders to his men while quickly shouting a message to the Atlesian Lauton.

"8th...Vale...re-enforcements..." Lauton heard, and hope grew in his heart somewhat.

Lauton knew the diplomat's and Baron's lives were top priority, and realization dawned on him as he realized what he must do. For some reason he felt calm and cold amidst this raging battle, his heart pounding in his ears. Grabbing a cyan colored grenade, he threw it in front of the diplomats, creating a purple force field. It could only last for so long, however.

"MEN! TO ME! ADVAAAAAAANCE!" He shouted at the top of his lungs, motioning at his men and striding forward into the open street as he flung another grenade, this one a smoke. It rapidly burst and filled the area with black smoke, and he walked on, bullets missing him by a hair as he aimed and fired in quick bursts. A pull of the trigger, and a dead Faunas. Simple as that. The other two Atlesians, stunned and awed by their Captain's example also followed, charging into the smoke, rifles blazing.

The Vale Guard Marksman however kept behind cover, prioritizing his targets. Hostile with LMG on right rooftop-a pull of the trigger, and the WF soldier fell down spasming. Another hostile with an RPG-another squeeze of the trigger. He became a machine, aligning his sights, pulling the trigger, pulling back the bolt, and repeat. He allowed himself a small smile-even machines could feel pride in their work.

One of the members of the White Fang, sensing a hopeless situation ran back to a red sedan and pulled out a few implements from her bag. She hoped this would at least take out some of their targets, and lay beneath the vehicle, utilizing fire dust, liquefied petrol mixture (a compound containing cyan, red and yellow dust) and a fuse to fashion an IED within mere seconds-she had always been a natural at chemistry in college. Shame grew in her heart with every second, and tears pricked at her eyes-why was she even here? She was in the supply corps anyway, a glorified accountant. She was never meant to be on the frontlines. Shaking her head, she squashed all doubts before attaching the device and ran off into a back alley, no longer caring what happened to her.

A Beowulf, attracted by the misery and suffering caused by the fighting lay behind a dumpster, waiting for a target, or for the rest of its pack so they could feast upon the remnants of battle. Better yet an Alpha would come, and lead them into a glorious charge into the fearful hearts of Faunas and men. It felt sorrow coming right towards it, causing the beast to prick up its nose and sniff curiously. Saliva pooled in its mouth. Its muscles tensed up, and it leapt out and onto the Faunas woman, tearing her throat out within seconds. It felt the delicious gush of blood about its cruel fangs, and absorbed the final death throes of its victim with glee. But something was wrong. It raised its head-a chunk of flesh hanging from its teeth-and pawed the Faunas' face. It had an odd expression, unlike those it had killed before. Its red maw was pulled up, the teeth showing, the eyes drooped peacefully instead of being frozen in shock like other victims.

She died with a smile, and a prayer for forgiveness on her lips.

Lauton fell, pain ratcheting through his chest. He just couldn't seem to stand any more, although the gunfire had long stopped. On either side his squad mates knelt next to him, oblivious of the fact that they were out of cover. Instead they shielded his body with their own, each grasping their Captain's shoulder as they kept firing until their magazines ran dry. They thought it was the end, but it was not to be.

A tank, along with multiple APCs and jeeps turned a corner, all painted Vale Guard colors. The enemies resolve to fight immediately evaporated, and they turned tail and scrambled away, some dropping all their gear and weaponry. Now the total White Fang forces fighting numbered two.

Biliare grabbed her shotgun and turned back to the Baron-Captain who had recovered surprisingly well from her acid attack. He nimbly sidestepped around her, slashing and slicing, trying to lower her Aura. Biliare cursed and tried to backhand Roudigrez, but he ducked and slashed at her helmet and mask, the sword sliding off but leaving clear scratches on the pale-yellow glass. Once more she fired a shot of acid, but the Baron dodged that too-right where Biliare wanted him. She fired four times, catching the Baron in his chest, knocking him backwards and dropping him to his knees. She charged forward, bayonet raised. She grinned behind her mask, excited for the grand finish. Unbeknownst to her, Roudigrez still had his sidearm, a large bore five-shot, a double-action revolver chambered for the .460 cartridge. He grinned as she approached, and whipped out his saving grace, firing all five rounds right at her. Her armor racked and splintered, stopping the bullets but also stopping her right in her tracks as a combination of Earth and Ice Dust slowed her down immensely. Petrified, her abdomen twitched, ready to fire a jet of acid again.

"Not this time!" Roudigrez yelled, and brought his sabre in a clean 45-degree angle downwards.

The 2nd Lt. caught the specialist's fist, and clenched it tightly. Pain showed on Aurum's face, and the Faunas wondered when he would finally crack. The specialist swung his other fist low, and the Lt. couldn't block that one. The blade hit him right in the crotch, and the Lt. released Aurum and got a roundhouse to the face as a reward. Grunting in anger as he felt the dagger rake him across the chest, he threw a haymaker and got lucky. Aurum hit the ground like a sack of potatoes, and the 2nd Lt. was about to finish him off when he heard a shrill scream come from behind him.

He whipped around, and saw Biliare on her knees, clutching her elongated black abdomen-or what remained of it. Three fourths had been cut off, lying in an acidic yellow puddle while the remaining stub twitched, leaking blood. He saw as the Vale Captain spun the sabre for the finishing blow.

He couldn't let that happen. With three strides, he was right beside the Baron, and on the third stride his chainsword was already mid thrust. Roudigrez, weakened and tired from his fight was unable to parry or dodge in time, and could only watch, with growing panic as the chainsword came whizzing at his side.

It penetrated him right in the side, passing right through, turning his lungs and heart to mush, cracking the bones of his ribcage before finally emerging threw the other side. He felt the strength seep from him, and the sabre fall from his hands. His world went dizzy and dark, and he fell to the ground, feeling all the warmth leave his body. All of a sudden, he felt cold, ice building in his heart, surrounded by growing darkness.

Aurum groaned, clutching his head. He felt as if he train had hit him, and the world was fuzzy. Slowly, though the gory details before swam into view.

"No..." He muttered, staring at Roudigrez's maimed body. The chainsword had left a ghastly gaping wound, and white bone peeked out from red tissue. Cold anger built up in his temple, drumming against his skull and he seized his pistol-dagger. The 2nd Lt. was running remarkably fast for a huge man carrying an EOD suit and a chainsword. He breathed in, aimed down his sights and fired a few final rounds. The 2nd Lt. flinched, but kept running.

Aurum scrambled over to Roudigrez, whose brown eyes were hazy and distant, staring up at the skies. They were no longer cold and harsh, but softer now, brimming with quiet resignation.

"Prince Celadon..." His liver-colored lips murmured, before firmly closing along with his eyes. He slowly turned his head to the right. The deeply sunburnt and pockmarked face was at peace.

The last thing he saw was the damned 2nd Lt. carrying his ally and sprinting away, his men in hot pursuit. At least that gave him some pride, before the darkness swallowed him whole. He was fortunate not to see the red sedan explode, and the hear the cries of the panicked casualties.

Aurum looked up, at the avenue. He took in the destroyed surroundings, the dead and dying with building anger. In his mind's eye, the image of Grauer grabbing the Prince with his filthy paws was frozen. A steady drumbeat of anger built in his temples, and he stood up, his baby-blue eyes blazing. He stepped away, allowing the marksman and other Vale Guardsmen to grieve over their fallen Captain.

He looked at the shattered statue, and a wild plan began to ferment in his brain. The Prince was all alone, in the hands of terrorists. Who knew what those animals might expose him to?

All of this very conveniently sprang up in Aurum's mind, obscuring the real reason why he wanted to go after Grauer; to redeem himself in the eyes of high command, and perhaps even get his Major's rank back. If he got lucky, perhaps he'd get his comfortable assignment back, before those filthy animals took it all away from him. He knew he was taking a big risk-Ironwood's orders were to secure the top-ranking Atlesian diplomats before returning to Atlas with all the other government employees-specialists and soldiers included-stationed overseas.

Still, in his mind the rewards quite outweighed the risks. Three terrorists and a very, very important person seemed to nullify the courses of his action.

He broke off into a sprint, leaping over the statue and began his search.

"I'm coming for you, you bastard." He murmured, sprinting right in the direction of some fallen White Fang. They were too far from the field of battle, and that meant one thing-Grauer must've passed this way. Ignoring the obvious question let contradictions beset his purpose, he continued his diligent search.

He'd follow that animal into the heart of hell if he had to.


	36. Behind Enemy Lines

Chapter 34: Behind Enemy Lines

Herman sped across the road, his friends close beside him. Leaping over a dividing barrier, he barreled past another squad of White Fang soldiers as he made his way to the marketplace.

Herman rushed through a parking lot and slid over the hood of a cherry-red 2x4 jeep, before abruptly halting. Heidi and Beckendorf reached him too, with Heidi sliding beneath the vehicle and Beckendorf vaulting over the top.

Herman set down the quivering prince and looked back at their pursuers. Thirty, perhaps forty hostiles, rapidly breaking off into squads with the main bulk slowing down to a walk, spreading into a 'walking fire' line.

Herman crouched as the first few shots pummelled into the vehicle, and staring at its solid, cherry-red exterior, he got an idea.

"'Dorf, Heidi. Take the kid and run north, into that plaza's basement. When I give the order." He said quickly, before crouching and grasping the vehicle from beneath. One hand moved behind the left front tire, the other extended further, clutching the suspension right in the centre. He gritted his teeth and grunted, muscles straining as he rose from his squatting position.

Master Sergeant Vik Andzej had seen many things in sixty years, but he had not seen this. The hostile-who he had recognized from the briefings as Private Herman Grauer-was lifting a 2x4 jeep with apparent ease. That thing should've weighed several hundred kilograms, but- _what was he doing with it?_

"Oh, shit." He murmured, before diving out of the way as the cherry-red jeep went hurtling through the air towards them. It landed on the asphalt two feet in front of them, causing the two front tires to pop off. The vehicle didn't lose its momentum, and kept skidding onwards, sparks flying from its front bumper.

Most of them had leapt out of harm's way, save for one simple-minded lad who was never known for his reflexes. The Faunas boy watched the vehicle slide towards him, his mouth hanging open, and Vik had to look away from the subsequent splattering.

Vik spat, and grabbed his radio.

"Master Sergeant Vik, of the 2nd Free Faunas division. We need a Paladin. I repeat, we need a Paladin on the Corsair marketplace. The convict has been sighted."

Looking down at the still shocked-recruits, he once more spat, this time in disgust.

"What, you motherfuckers never fought a hunter before! Up and onwards, you bastards! They are three, and you are fifty!" He cursed and grabbed another kid's pale arm, propelling him forward.

Meanwhile, Herman used his chance to escape. He rushed deeper into the market, towards the indicated plaza, which loomed over the puny shops, the twenty-story metal-and-glass bulk somehow threatening. Somewhere not too far off, he could hear a dog barking. Taking a sharp left in order to throw off his pursuers, he saw multiple people in civilian dress, all wearing facemasks as they rummaged through the ruins of a few shops. One saw him, and the rest tensed up-but they didn't have to worry. Herman abruptly sprinted off to the right, leaping and scaling a smaller building as he made his way to the plaza.

An Ursa, which was currently devouring the last stringy remains of flesh remaining on a shawarma stand, looked up as it felt a powerful wave of despair and fear ripple over it. It growled slightly, juices dribbling from its muzzle as it did so. Was an Alpha coming? If so, it would have to relinquish its meal and trail after it-or worse. It braced itself, caught between the two conflicting temptations of devouring its meal or heading over to the leader-which seemed to be coming any moment now.

Herman vaulted over a clothing stall, soaring through the air with his legs extended as he drop-kicked an Ursa which was having a snack out of the shawarma vendor. Scrambling to his feet and ignoring the howling Ursa, he ran the last five feet forward and skidded into the darkened basement of the plaza.

"Herman! Over here!" Heidi yelled, motioning at an opened door leading into a darkened room. He rushed in, and Heidi slammed it closed before dragging a couch over and blocking the entryway.

Herman looked around the darkened interior while massaging his left arm muscle. That vehicle was much heavier than it looked. It was some sort of netcafe, with workstations arranged along the walls and centre. Most of the computers had either been stolen, and the few which remained had cracked monitors or missing components. Only one-with all its bells and whistles-at the far end shone dimly in the dank basement.

"I doubt anyone would come poking around this dump. We'd best wait here a bit before moving on." She said, walking off to a corner where the kid sat, shivering. Herman looked over to Beckendorf, who was rifling through a desk.

"Find anything interesting?" Herman asked, walking next to his reindeer friend.

"Nah, just a few photos, a broken mouse...and candy!" The Reindeer seized a dusty pack of raspberry-flavoured mints, and proceeded to tear it open before tipping half of it into his mouth.

"Your digestive system's going to take revenge on you for that." Herman murmured, picking up a photograph and pushing away the shattered glass frame. It depicted twelve kids, no older than him. Six were kneeling, six standing and in the middle was a laptop, lying on the floor. Behind them was a banner, green text on black background, proclaiming VALECON '07.

"The hell's that?" Herman wondered aloud, brushing some dust off the bottom, where the kid's names were written.

"Hm?" Beckendorf re-appeared, noisily chewing the mints. "Ah yeah, Valecon. Figured you'd not know about that." He murmured, before blowing a pinkish-white bubble.

"What is it?" Herman wondered, stroking his chin with his gauntleted hand. Seems like a beard was forming-he'd have to get a razor sometime soon.

"Oh, convention for hackers, computer geeks and the like. Went there recently for a gaming competition." Beckendorf answered, leaning against the table.

"Huh. You had time off?" Herman asked, his pupils dilating in surprise. Beckendorf laughed a bit at his reaction.

"Yeah, man. Vale isn't Atlas, bro. We were more discreet here, unlike that total war you had brewing in that icy hell. Well, we've gone overt here too." The reindeer mused, spitting out the mint, which landed near Herman's boot. Beckendorf grinned sheepishly beneath his friend's reproachful glare.

Shaking his head, Herman began to read the names. Most were faded out, save for the central kid's name and the guest of honour; a Dr. Arthur Watts. Herman had heard of the guy-he was some Atlesian scientist in the top research companies, and one of the potential assassination targets picked by Alpha Pack. Aside from that, he didn't know a whole lot-though it seemed this guy was into youth events. He then turned his attention to the central kid's name.

Eliphates Darbas.

" _Now, where had I heard that name before?"_ Herman thought, looking back at the kid. Dark skin, frizzy hair the colour of steel. The boy seemed to be familiar, but he couldn't recall where he had seen those features before.

Shrugging, he walked to Heidi who was rummaging through a cabinet, while the Prince sat with his knees drawn up to his chest, sniffling and shaking.

"Nice acquisition, Grauer." She said as he approached, turning around to face him.

"Acquisition?" He asked, brow furrowed.

"I can only assume you saved him because he's worth more as a bargaining chip. We can safely escort him to the Vale Guard's HQ, and gain our amnesty-but we need a plan, otherwise what's to stop them from locking us in a jail cell once the Prince is safe?"

"Well, couldn't have left him to be crushed." He said, feeling very uncertain inside. "But yeah, I guess he is worth a lot, being a high-value target."

"Exactly. We need to keep him safe-it is for our own good."

"True, but first of all, what's wrong with him?" Herman pointed at the kid.

"He's in shock. Can't blame him, a weak, sickly little thing who's had his first taste of battle." She shrugged. "Got anything warm to cover him up? This place isn't a fashion boutique." She gestured at the computers, all while eyeing him.

"Why're you looking at me?" Herman asked rather nervously, fiddling with his top button. Heidi smiled.

"Your coat. It'll do nicely."

"It's ten sizes too big!" Herman protested "And it has got gunk all over it, and its sticky-"

"All the better to cover up that fancy outfit of his. Besides, we'll stop for some fashion shopping on the way out." She winked playfully, her lovely green eyes sparkling, and Herman had to concede. Reluctantly, he unbuttoned his sherwani and handed it to her before walking back to Beckendorf in order to commiserate.

"Whoa, bro. That's a tight uniform." The reindeer Faunas said, eyeing Herman's muscles which were straining against the digital-patterned polyester fabric.

Herman was already regretting his choice of commiseration partner.

"Like, are those combat trousers a size too small? I can see every perfectly sculpted-" Beckendorf whistled.

"What happened to that guy with you, on the train?" Herman asked, desperate to change the subject. His cheeks were burning, but the shame was quickly replaced with a prickly feeling inside as he saw Beckendorf's ruddy, cheery face droop. The Faunas' brown eyes became sad and pensive, and Herman felt bad.

"When we woke up after the crash, I saw a Beowulf..." His voice choked up, and Herman felt even worse. But strangely, his spine and skull tingled a little more as he saw a single teardrop go down his friend's eye. Herman's own eyes began to burn a little bit, but not from sorrow. A familiar burning, immediately followed by the world turning grey-blue. He blinked rapidly, trying to dispel it but Beckendorf's sorrow was so _delicious-_

" _What the fuck?"_ The wolf wondered. His Semblance never acted like this in response to emotions-

Or maybe it had? At that party, in that 'Wildlands Academy', he felt a tinge of pleasure-

 _"No, no, and no. That's in the past; you don't kill, or enjoy it-"_

But he did. That tank crew, he couldn't hold back.

"I'm sorry." Herman said suddenly. Beckendorf sneezed and shook his head, brushing Herman with an antler.

"Don't be. You didn't know." The reindeer said in a dull, emotionless voice. Herman didn't know what to say-his training didn't cover social interaction.

Meanwhile, Heidi was sitting with the kid, Herman's sherwani in her hand. She wrinkled her nose at the smell, before looking over at the kid and smiling slightly.

"What's your name?" She asked. She knew, of course. But kids were easier to talk to if they thought you showed any interest in them.

He quit quivering, wiped away his snot on the edge of his sleeve before answering.

"Prince Celadon Chelmsford-Montague Regis Terrigoff Du-Haute Bellegard." He answered in one breath, before quickly following up with, "What's yours?"

"Heidi. Heidi Azura."

"That's short. And dumb."

"Is not!" She said, looking indignated for his behalf. "Long names are pretentious and stupid." She said with a condescending air. It had the desired effect.

"My name commands honour and respect! It isn't preten-preten-no, you're stupid!" He squealed, beating his little fist on the floor before shivering again.

"Now, now, my Prince. I'm sure your name is very important." She said, stroking his bony shoulder. The boy was somewhat pacified by being addressed as 'Prince', and he quit beating his tiny hand on the floor. He still shivered, prompting Heidi to unwrap the sherwani.

"Would you like a nice coat to keep you warm?" She asked, and the boy nodded fervently. Without further ado, Heidi busied herself will wrapping up the kid, who snuggled against the fabric.

"Ech...it smells in here. Did you drag this out of a sewer?" He asked even as he settled into it. It was so large that the hem went past his feet and piled up on the floor. Heidi shot a look at Herman, who was sitting silently on the floor in a kneeling position, with his eyes closed and his blue-grey Aura shimmering as his greyish-white hair flickered and rippled.

"From someone who came out of one." She replied, tucking some more fabric beneath the Prince's shoulder. The boy was terribly unhealthy, though not from malnutrition. Heidi supposed it was the poor mixing of genes, and she hoped he didn't suffer from sickle-cell anaemia, haemophilia or any such diseases.

"Price Celadon, do you have to take medicine?" She asked tentatively as the Prince sneezed.

"Only for my- _achoo!_ Cold. My nursemaid said I have a weak chest, but I'm lucky not to be ill like grandpapa and older sister." He murmured, having quit sneezing and appreciatively attempting to snuggle against her.

"This is nice and warm, even if it is stinky and something's growing in the right armpit." He murmured, closing his eyes slightly. "Can I sit in your lap?"

"No."

"But I'm the Prince. You called me your Prince. You must do as I say." He said quietly, before adding as an afterthought. "Or I'll have your head chopped off."

"A bit harsh, don't you think?" She commented, not really taking the Prince's threat seriously.

"Fitting for a Faunas like you." He murmured, leaning against her.

"But this is terribly unprincely of you. Do you know if you chop of someone's head, they die, my Prince?"

"Are you making fun of me?" He said, his eyes shut.

"Never, my Prince."

"Never make fun of me. I don't like-" And with a massive yawn, he fell asleep, his head in Heidi's lap. She sighed and leaned back-she pitied the young brat's nursemaid.

Meanwhile, Beckendorf had wandered behind the counter, partially repelled by Herman's stench and partially out his desire to explore more. He walked by a locked metal cabinet (Which had been oddly bolted to the wall) with a dark glass door where a glint of metal from within caught his eye. Intrigued, he peered closely, and could make out the metal frame of a laptop. Strangely enough, there were also a few metal cans and bottles in one corner of the shelf.

" _If it's locked, then it's worth breaking open._ " Beckendorf thought, kneeling and pulling out a lockpick out of his jeans pocket. Lifting the padlock, he could see that it had been fitted with a lever tumbler lock with an in-built jamming mechanism. The reindeer Faunas licked his lips-the stuff inside must be really valuable. It would take him a bit of time, but he was sure the effort would be well worth it.

Meanwhile, Herman was busy delving within himself. Past battles flashed through his mind, and he assessed each one, noting where he had failed, where he could have used techniques and so on. The battle with the Paladin came to mind, sending a jolt of pain through his still-bandaged hand. Herman furrowed his brow-he needed to focus on concentrating his Aura and take less bullets. He had deflected shots before, but the process was harder than it looked.

Then his mind turned to his semblance, and once more a stream of crackling energy went coursing through his entire body, gradually building in momentum. Within the darkness of his mind, a familiar shape began to take form.

His eyes flew open in alarm, and although the current of energy still swept and ebbed through him, he felt his heart-rate skyrocket. Breathing heavily, the Faunas wiped the sweat of his brow and looked at Heidi, who was staring up at the ceiling. The kid's head was in her lap, and Herman felt a hot jolt of jealousy flow through his chest. His cheeks felt hot, and he tried to immerse himself in his meditation instead but every time he closed his eyes he kept seeing her.

 _"Damn, why isn't there a manual for these kinds of feelings, like there are for cleaning rifles and the like?"_ He wondered, ducking his head and feeling the heat in his cheeks intensify. _  
_

With satisfaction, Beckendorf listened to the _click_ of the last tumbler give way, opening the lock. Tossing aside the metal padlock, which landed with a _clang_ , he yanked the door open.

His reward was one laptop of an unknown brand-there was no logo-three cans of soup, a can opener and four bottles of water. The reindeer clutched one antler and sighed-what was the bloody point of locking these things away? Sighing in disgust, he put the lockpick away before grabbing the soup and water. Those would go in the backpack he had swiped from the Atlesian armoury. He picked up the laptop as well, placing it on the counter and pressing the 'on' button. It had a sleek, brushed green metal design with an LED keypad which flowed a faint green. The deer wondered if he had found some kind of gaming laptop-it did have a sticker boasting of an in-built Xvid X-Force 2080 Colossus graphics card, one of the more advanced ones out there.

The computer completely skipped the booting process, so Beckendorf found himself staring at a screen filled with green and black lines. He tapped at the trackpad multiple times, but fruitlessly. Wondering if this piece of junk was already busted, he was about to slam it shut when a voice emanated from the speakers.

"Kindly step back."

Heidi looked sharply at Beckendorf, one hand on the hilt of her sword. Herman was jerked out of his fantasizing, and he swifly drew Nihil, slightly cursing at the many scratches and little dents he saw on it. As for Beckendorf, he stepped back as the voice commanded, watching slowly in horror as the green-and-red lines slowly morphed into a face. Static electricity popped and cracked, and a trail of green and black lines began to issue from the screen, the USB ports, the charging socket and even the speakers. These lines converging into one single mass, which begun to take shape. Slowly, the green lines built up from the feet to the knees, and then to the chest, neck and head. Just as the head was formed, the green lines fizzeled out and faded into the newly-formed body.

They found themselves facing a chubby, dark-skinned kid with greenish-grey eyes and a messy mop of grey hair with a green stripe running through the right side.

"Hi, I'm Eliphates Darbas and-"

And then he fell over and lay sprawled on the floor, having gone into a cold faint.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Aurum stepped crept past a burnt-out sedan with three little blackened skeletons in the back. Nearby, a Grimm howled and the staccato crackle of gunfire was heard.

 _"Got to get out of here quickly, the negativity draws Grimm."_ He looked about before making a quick dash behind a jeep. He was in the marketplace as well, hunting Herman.

When he had thoroughly combed the parliamentary buildings in vain, he had flopped down on the eastern roof of the Justice Hall, which overlooked the Corsair market (only eight kilometres away). There he had spied multiple WF troops running about in agitation, and failing to make his due report he leapt off the building and rushed there.

Now dark was falling, and the enemy patrols were getting larger. Most worryingly, he had seen multiple would-be civilian Faunas armed with weapons and making the rounds. He would've chalked them up to be the dumb fucking animals they were, but the fact that one he killed had a bullet-proof vest under his coat as well as med kits, grenades and the like meant that they were WF soldiers who had shed the uniform.

He moved swiftly as a patrol passed by the sedan, heading deeper into the marketplace. Quickly flattening himself by a shop stall, he waited for a sniper on an adjacent roof to move away.

Little did he know another sniper was stalking him through the sights of his weapon. It was a recoil-operated, semi-automatic anti-materiel sniper system, chambered for the chambered for the powerful 12.7×99mm round. Sure it kicked like hell, and the recoil was 25 mm when the rotating bolt wasn't locked. But his new arm could take it. The weapon had a 10-round box magazine, and its maximum firing range was 1,800 meters.

But he wasn't interested in taking out the enemy right now. No, this little specialist would lead him right to his prey. He slung the weapon over his back and jumped from rooftop from rooftop, prowling along in wait for bigger prey.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Senior Firefighter Billy Blaze reached precariously for the little dark-haired kid who balanced on the edge of a window. The turnstile ladder could only reach so far, and the Dust fire had grown too strong for their fire truck's hose to combat. Backup was on the way, but with such a large fire to combat and the constant battling, they had been stretched to maximum operating capacity. Despite wearing heat-reflective clothing, he could feel himself burning up from the inside. He extended his arms, trying not to look down. Gravity yanked at his stomach, and his heart raced as the little one wailed, the flames rapidly spreading past the faux-wooden panelling.

Careful...careful...there! He grabbed the boy, and held him close to his chest as he looked down and signalled the men below to lower the ladder.

Nothing. No response. He swayed, buffeted by the winds, but he kept his hand on the rail. He wiped his eyes and squinted-where were they? Panic rose in his heart when he saw the Vale Guard troopers were also missing, as were the civilians his crew had saved. He heard the sharp clang of metal, and jerked around sharply.

A woman clad in a purple backup was standing on top of the fire engine, directly below the turnstile ladder. She had a halberd raised, pointed directly at him. Still uncomprehending, he was dead before hearing the sharp _crack_ of the rifle built into her halberd. The shot passed through the kid he was holding before entering his ribcage and exiting through his lung. Red splattered across the white metal, and the world was all topsy-turvy.

Raudona lowered her smoking weapon and watched with cool disinterest as the man fell from his perch, a bundle of rags in his arms. She jumped down, taking slow and measured steps to where the other firemen and civilians were held captive by the men under her command.

"What shall we do with them, ma'am?" One Faunas asked. He had a high, reedy voice. Raudona disliked that, and made a mental note to throw him at the next machine-gun nest they came across. But for now, there were other pleasures to attend to. She sauntered over to a woman, and raised her chin with her halberd. Fear shone in the woman's tear-stained eyes, but Raudona could barely care less. She licked her lips.

"Leave them to me."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

General smoked his third cigar of the day, before blowing a puff of bluish-grey smoke. He peered out of the window, where conexes were being constructed. Overall, he was a tad bit pleased. The boundary walls had been extended past the Church, and the fire was being combated successfully. Better yet, rain was on the horizon as evidenced by the hot and muggy weather.

But he could not celebrate yet. Vale was still beset by Grimm and WF, and the walls of the city needed urgent repair as per the Engineering Corps report. More worryingly, the WF had melted away and reports were coming in of so-called civilians attacking convoys with car bombs, IEDs, and petrol bombs. Only an hour ago a Faunas with a suicide vest had been successfully stopped by Father Solarus. Apparently all the aged preacher had to do was preach the word of the Lord at him before the Faunas keeled over, sobbing.

To top off this messy sundae of shit, the Royal Family had refused to part with their Royal battalions-of which there were many-and instead had them all horded up in the north. Every day he received calls from those Royals, demanding to know where Prince Celadon was. At least the safe return of some of the Barons had silenced a few voices questioning his competence.

He rubbed his forehead in exasperation and turned around to face Smokey who had a large briefcase in his hands. The colour drained out of his face, and Smoky held it gingerly as if it contained something extremely dangerous inside. Which as a matter of fact, it was.

"Is that..." Gaunt pointed at it with his cigar, and Smoky nodded, confirming his fear. The general sighed, his mind lingering on the forty-odd Huntsmen on the base.

"There's no other way. The Royal Family sits on its ass in the north, protected with more battalions than it'll ever need!" Gaunt fumed, slamming his fist down on the table.

Smoky nervously pulled off his black fedora with one scaly hand, set aside the briefcase with the other and began to play with it in his hands as he spoke.

"I know some officers in the Crimson Guard, but they only work for a set price." He said calmly and evenly, bracing himself for Gaunt's reaction.

The General did not disappoint.

"I trust your mother commands such high a price nowadays that you feel we can hire a bunch of mercenaries to do _our_ job." Gaunt spat, and with a few choice sentences which truly gave credit to his Vale University education, soon had his Chief of Intelligence cowering in the corner.

"Er, Lisa Lavender from VNN wants to speak with you and-" Smoky quickly spoke, but Gaunt was not to be pacified.

"Don't change the subject. Also, fuck the press." Gaunt raised his cigar and took another puff.

"Have you seen what they do to a place after they are done? The Crimson Guard are locusts, stripping the surrounding area of any resources and calling it payment." He fumed, before pointing at the briefcase.

"Now, onto more practical solutions. Though I loathe to consider it, we may need to use the Briefcase for our little Grimm problem. Shut the door, Smokey."

With that, the heavy door was slammed shut, and the two lunks of guards posted outside prevented any further eavesdropping.


	37. Metal Beast

Chapter 35: Metal Beast

"And so I shut myself in that there cabinet, hoping to wait out all the chaos."

"How did you plan to get out?" 

"Good question." Eliphates scratched his chin thoughtfully, staring blankly into the distance. Heidi raised an eyebrow quizzically, and 'Dorf shrugged. Herman tightened his grip on Nihil, before glancing back at the Prince, who was fast asleep and bundled up in _his_ clothing.

"You wouldn't be related to Aciero Darbas, now would you?" Herman raised a gauntleted finger at the boy, whose face suddenly lit up.

"Are you a friend of my sister? Did she send you here?"

"My dad was, but erm….about the rescue attempt…..we just sorta blundered into here. Hell, if it weren't for his thieving tendencies-"Herman indicated Beckendorf, who awkwardly smiled "-we wouldn't have even found you." Heidi shook her head, wondering if Herman could've been less tactless in his answer, because Eliphates' smile faded and his face fell.

"Right." Eliphates said, his voice somewhat emotionless. "Now that I've introduced myself, I think it would be nice of yourselves to do the same."

"Herman Grauer. Wanderer." He awkwardly extended his hand forward, and shook. The boy's grip was firm, despite his somewhat flabby build.

"Beckendorf. Wanderer's friend." The reindeer smiled with a shit-eating grin, and Eliphates refrained from shaking his hand.

"Heidi Azura. Freelancer." She too, did not shake and merely crossed her hands.

"And that kid back there?" Eliphates asked, and Herman was now grateful the kid was draped in his Sherwani, obscuring his royal regalia. He looked to Heidi for an answer.

"A kid we saved. Couldn't leave him wandering about alone." Eliphates' finger returning to his chin, stroking it thoughtfully.

"Hmm. Very warm-hearted of you." He murmured, lost in thought. "Well, at least one of you know my sister, so I think I can trust you. Sort of. I mean, no real alternative, yeah? Better than wandering these streets alone." The boy rambled, more for his benefit than the others.

"Speaking of wandering the streets, we should come up with a plan to get to the Vale Military HQ." Heidi suddenly spoke, cutting of Eliphates' monologue. He looked up, and quickly nodded before running back to grab his laptop.

"Yes, yes. I have an offline map downloaded, and we can plot several routes if one or the other is blocked." The computer geek spoke quickly as he brought up the map, prompting the Faunus trio to lean in closer. "Where was that HQ you spoke of? The one near the Industrial Zone?"

"Nah, they've re-located to the Agricultural District-although they have expanded their zone of control to the Industrial sector." Herman explained, looking over the street names and noting geographical details.

"If that is the case, we could stroll up from the Corsair Market, up from Maula Street and through the Church of Oum." Eliphates said.

"Plenty of Grimm in the way, not to mention the sheer amount of rubble from destroyed buildings. It'll give us cover but making our journey difficult. I'd say a side-route is better." Heidi said.

"Which way do you suggest, then?" Eliphates asked.

"We can take a detour from Maula Street and head along the residential colonies, weaving our way to the Church. We'll briefly be on the Outskirts of the Poor Faunus District, which is the time we'll be in the greatest danger."

"How so?" This time Beckendorf spoke up.

"Well-"Heidi pursed her lips, before speaking "-the White Fang were pretty active there before all of this. There might be sympathizers or an outpost. I grew up in the place, so I can safely guide you through."

"Hrmmm. You seem to know quite a bit, missy-but it is a workable plan. First let's get some supplies from the nearby marketplace-if there are any-then we can move forward." Everyone nodded their heads at Eliphates' speech.

"Shall we wake the kid up?" The computer geek continued, and immediately Heidi, Herman and Beckendorf shook their heads.

"Let's scout the surrounding area, then get him out." She said, and in mute agreement they all silently walked to the exit, before halting immediately as a heavy stomping sound came from above, making the ceiling shake and causing dust to snow upon them.

"What's that up there?" 'Dorf asked, reaching for his shotgun. Herman raised Nihil and took point, cautiously opened the door before peeking around the corner. The sky was still overcast, and the distant roar of thunder could be heard.

"Whatever it was, it wasn't the weather. Come on." Herman said, cautiously moving up the stairs. Slowly, they traipsed up the stairs before heading out into the open air. Herman lowered his weapon.

"Clear-but what was that?" He said, scanning the surrounding area. But there was no need to do so. A massive rumbling was heard, and Herman was suddenly on his feet, coughing vigorously and choking as dirt and dust entered his trachea. As the dust settled, Herman finally beheld what the source was.

An Atlesian Paladin, weapons primed and engine fuelled to go. There was a pilot compartment in the front, but its outlines and the 'eye' blazed a malevolent red. Gatling guns whirred, and rocket-launcher racks emerged from the 'shoulders' of the mechanical beast.

" _That's_ what it was." Eliphates said, his voice quivering.

"Ah shit, here we go again." Herman sighed, revving up his sword for battle. Nihil squealed and shrieked with delight, and the wolf leapt forward to do battle with the mechanical beast.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

" _Cold. It's very cold in here."_ The steel belly of the beast vibrated, jerking the pilot out of her pitiful attempts at sleep. She gasped, only to regret it as freezing fluid trickled from a shredded power cable, some entering her mouth. Her lungs seizing up, and her heart painfully constricted. She wanted to scream, but couldn't as the deluge of machine fluid grew stronger and the wiring bound around her throat more painfully. A tiny current danced its way about her skin, raising goosebumps, and every stomp by the Paladin sent painful vibrations through her bones.

The red light flickered on and off, burning her retinas, and she looked through the visor to see a Faunus rushing at her with a massive, barbaric onyx-black sword. Closing her eyes, she prayed for salvation. 


	38. Metal Beast Rising

Chapter 36: Metal Beast Rising

Herman zig-zagged towards the Paladin, blocking the Gatling rounds the best he could. His focus was on the frontal compartment-although not prominent, the bulkier outlines had marked it out as a pilot-operated mech. As he leapt, spiralling through the air, he wondered where the Fang had found pilots for the tech.

Nihil came spinning upwards towards the right arm joint, but the Paladin suddenly thrust its entire right leg upwards-its rise speeded up by the foot thrusters-and effectively parried his blow. Vibration pulsed through his body, but Herman focussed on concentrating his Aura through Nihil, utilizing it as a conduit for his Aura despite the rattling of his bones. It flinched, as if hurt, and with satisfaction Herman saw the metal deform and bend inwards. Unfortunately, the action had also chipped off another of Nihil's teeth.

 _"Goddamnit, I have to utilize this properly. At this rate, I'll shatter my blade."_ He landed somewhat awkwardly, skidding across the cement and nearly pitching face-forward into the shawarma stand. As he nearly fell, he saw a small red canister lying about inside, and without a second thought he snatched it before leaping out of the widening shadow that was the Paladin's foot. The column of steel punched straight through the tarmac, leaving behind a massively gaping hole and a spiderweb of cracks extending for fifty meters in all directions. A small shower of rubble and stone was sent flying, and Herman rolled out of the way before shaking the dust canister.

 _"Quarter full. That's all I'll need."_ The pungent smell of natural gas also wafted upwards from the newly created hole thanks to the Paladin smashing the underground gas pipes. He rose to face the Paladin, which was busy trying to gun down two of the group huddled behind several florist stalls.

"HOLY SHIT!" Beckendorf yelled, covering his head as he scrambled forward, arse sticking up in the air as .58 caliber blasted the flimsy wood and fabric to splinters and shreds. Darbas scrambled in tow, protectively clutching his laptop.

"Damnit, damnit, damnit!" The boy cursed, narrowly dodging a flowerpot which shattered against the pavement and rained dirt in his eyes. "Shoulda put it in the case!"

"That's what's got you worried!" Beckendorf shrilly screamed, as he looked about for Heidi. In the corner of his eye, he saw a dark streak before he felt a firm hand grip his collar, and was suddenly swept along. Before he knew it, he got tossed into a restaurant alongside Eliphates. Both went skidding across the marble floor, before hitting a coffee table with a solid _thump_.

"Stay in there while we deal with things." Heidi said, somewhat contemptuously, before unslinging her bow.

"Wait!" Eliphates squeaked, raising his hand. Heidi sighed, before looking around.

"What is it?"

"Tell Herman not to destroy that Paladin! I can get into it!"

"You can what?" Heidi and Beckendorf asked at once.

"Yeah! My semblance! I just need a connection somehow, and because I'm not as physically tough to keep up-you know what? Take this-"He fumbled about in his pocket before handing Heidi a silver-coloured plastic device."-and attach it to the comms system. You can access it by opening a plate on the right shoulder, and it should be next to the green and red wiring."

"You sure this will work?" Heidi took the device, and immediately stumbled as a shockwave rattled the very walls of the restaurant and the surroundings glowed orange.

"Yeah! I can access the device through my computer, transfer into the system-"Without letting him finish, Heidi sprinted out, leaving them to stare in awe as she effortlessly cleared a vehicle, a pile of rubble, and the Paladin's sweeping arm in mere seconds.

Herman shook the canister, trying to lure the Paladin towards the source of the gas. So far he only had to dodge a couple of rockets and several thousand rounds of ammunition, nothing too serious. The entire mall behind him was ablaze and in ruins, but on the bright side, he had more places to take cover. That is, if a lucky shot didn't pierce the bright red canister he held and blew him to kingdom come.

 _"Come to think of it, I've been blown up a couple of times already. What is this tiny canister gonna do?"_ Herman thought as he backflipped over a shattered car, bullets narrowly streaking by him. _"Then again, it was pretty unpleasant…."_ He was snapped back into the action when he saw Heidi streak around behind the Paladin, firing two arrows at its leg joints. Immediately, thick layers of ice dust spread over the white metal, limiting its mobility-but the central 'torso' rotated 180 degrees and began firing.

"Now!" Herman yelled for his own benefit, almost chucking the canister-only to stop when he saw Heidi run up the side of an increasingly-bullet holed building and leap towards the Paladins. Just then, it launched another rocket-this one's trajectory straight on for Heidi. Herman threw the canister-this time unconsciously channelling his Aura, and sent it flying straight and true for the rocket. With his other hand he fired a short burst, aiming ahead of the canister. There was a moment's delay before his bullets found there mark, and then there was a reddish-orange explosion barely five meters for Heidi. Herman seized up, panic gripping his throat as the Paladin rotated back to face him, the ice Dust shattering.

And then Heidi emerged from the dark after cloud, and plunged both blades into the right arm section of the Paladin. Using her momentum, she swung onto a more secure position and wrenched off a section of metal, exposing the internal circuitry and whirring motors. Her sharp eyes spotted a bundle of green wiring, next to which a small panel was located, marked with a wireless symbol. She quickly pulled it off, and planted the device. A screen slid open, and a command prompt began to boot up a protocol.

C:/DOORS/system32netsh wlan show profile

ALL USER PROFILES: ATLAS_NET_RGB1783  
ELIPHATES

Inside the restaurant, Beckendorf and Eliphates were hunched over the screen. The computer geek's fingers rapidly smashed the keyboard, as his breathing grew more intense. He began to glow an intense green, and Beckendorf leaned back in his chair, watching in awe as the boy's fingers began to break down into green lines of code and flow towards the screen.

"Hehehe…..I'll get to hack into one of the secure systems." He looked at Beckendorf, smiling insanely, but there was his eyes were watery, though it was hard to tell as Eliphates was literally dissipating. "Be my witness if I don't emerge."

"Dude, what? What do you mean?" Beckendorf said, staring at the screen and back at the boy.

"The tougher the security, the harder to crack, the more likely I remain in cyberspace-"

And just like that, in a green flash, Eliphates disappeared, leaving Beckendorf to stare at the screen.

C:/DOORS/system32netsh wlan connect ssid=ELIPHATES name=ELIPHATES

Connection request was completed successfully.

"Wow. That's cool." He said, before rushing to the window.

The Paladin sent a current of electricity coursing through the metal, sending a shock up Heidi's back causing her to leap off with jelly-like legs. She clumsily whipped around to face the metal beast, but the red light was gone. She was dimly aware of her hair standing up in ridiculous, spiky bristles, but everyone's attention was on the frontal compartment. The doors slid open with a wheeze, and out fell an emaciated body draped in white overalls. Heidi rushed over to interrogate the subject, but froze as she cautiously turned over a woman with light freckled skin, with hazy red eyes and hair to match. On her shoulder, was the badge of Atlas Mechanized division.

 _ **"VERY STRANGE."**_ A deep voice rumbled from the Paladin's speakers. Heidi looked back, still holding the woman up by her collar.

"Eliphates? Is that you?"

 _ **"UH, DUH? HOW MANY OTHER HACKERMEN DO YOU KNOW?"**_

"You….hacked the mech?"

" _ **KINDA SELF EXPLANATORY."**_ It spread its arms, proudly displaying the green outlines which had taken over the red, but almost immediately stumbled over. _**"WOAH….I GOTTA GET USED TO THIS."**_

Herman walked up, chainsword revved in caution.

"Curioser and curioser." He murmured, looking at the Paladin and the woman. "Let's get to safety first-our fight was due to be noticed."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Herman's stalkers crouched in opposite ends in the ruins of Corsair market, having been drawn to the sounds of the fight, not to mention the leaping mech. And for 30 minutes, they thought as one.

 _"What. The. Fuck."_

Both readied their weapons, resolving to tail the group and wait for an opportunity.


	39. Poor Faunas District

Chapter 37: Poor Faunus District

The Paladin stomped along the side street, shaking the ground and crushing rubble to mere dust as it swivelled about, armaments at the ready. Atop it, Herman, Heidi and Beckendorf sat. It wasn't a very comfortable ride, and soon Herman was envying the Prince of Vale and the female ex-pilot (who had not woken up) who were stored in the pilot compartment. 

Even so, he winced when he remembered _how_ he had to get the kid in there.

"Right, so we'll put you in the pilot seat and you'll be nice and safe. They'll be another person there, so it'll be a tight fit. C'mon." Herman pleaded, but the brat was adamant.

"No! I want to see my kingdom!" The Prince crossed his arms and stamped his little foot. "I shall not be hauled about in some dark little compartment with someone far below my station! I am royalty, and I shall be treated as such!"

" _I'm half tempted to toss him to the Fang and have them give him a royal greeting."_ Herman thought, but outwardly he smiled-or tried to.

"Gah! That looks disgusting! What are you trying to do?" The Prince backed up slightly, raising one little arm protectively, his face drenched in a fine sheen of sweat and his eyes dilating in pure fear. Herman could take no more, and swiftly uppercutted the Prince before he could react, knocking him out. Crouching down, he picked up the boy and turned around-only to be faced by Heidi. Her pencil-thin brows were knitted in pure anger, her eyes ablaze, and her mouth extremely thin. The fact her hair was still sticking up all over the place did not help matters, and Herman felt his heart go dead and his blood run cold.

"You big stupid lunk. If we return him damaged, or if he speaks about how _terribly_ we treated him, we are dead. Come, give him to me." With stiff arms Herman handed over the boy, and marched in cold silence up the stairs and into the remains of the market.

"Yo! Salvaged what supplies I could!" Beckendorf announced, waving about a brand new hiking bag. "Let's get out of here!"

And so they set off, three convict Faunus, one computer geek controlling a Paladin, a comatose woman and a member of the royal family. The skies were the colour of steel, and the faint crackle of gunfire accompanied with the shrieking of rocket artillery in the distance kept all of them on edge. Weapons swivelled in slow arcs, with fast-blinking eyes scanning the abandoned homes and shops and twitchy fingers on the triggers-on in Heidi's case, on the bow-string.

Herman sat on top, LMG at the ready, while Heidi and 'Dorf sat on each side. The ride was somewhat uncomfortable, as they got jiggled about every time the Paladin took a step, and halfway through it began to pour heavily. Within moments, water overflowed from the gutters and the streets were flooded with brown. War's dark harvest joined the sewage and debris, and Eliphates displayed various readouts on the pilot's display to prevent the Prince from seeing the devastation.

" _ **I FEEL SLIGHTLY SICK NOW…"**_ Eliphates mumbled as a body floated by; his voice although amplified by the speakers was thin and choked, almost squeaky, and for a moment the entire machine rumbled.

" _ **I CANNOT SUSTAIN THIS FOR MUCH LONGER. PARTS OF THE DATA PACKETS WHICH COMPRISE MY BEING ARE ALREADY ERODING-WE MUST HALT."**_ Eliphates thundered through the speakers, prompting the three Faunus to look at one another.

"Well, it is good we made it this far. We can shelter till the rain stops, then move through-where are we?" Herman asked, looking about the place. It was hard to tell, what with all the local surroundings being nothing but rubble. Yet ahead of him, he could see smoke rising from a half-dozen blazing fires and a ramshackle assortment of tents, as well as ugly concrete buildings, clothes hanging from railings and washing lines. A slum.

"The outskirts of the Poor Faunus District. Here we must tread carefully." Heidi said, her tone joyless. "We should disembark and find suitable shelter before scouting."

"How about that little house over there? It seems intact enough." Beckendorf motioned at a small one-story home with a small attached garden. Its walls were lined with cracks, the creamy white colour smeared with dust and soot, the windows broken, and the door missing-yet it was in better condition that the neighbouring homes. One had its entire upper façade blasted to bits, revealing a room stripped bare of everything but a bunk-bed. Another had rain cascading through a hole in the roof. Yet another had partially collapsed inwards.

Eliphates stamped towards the small home as Herman and Heidi leapt off.

"Try to stay in the Paladin for 10 minutes. We're going to conduct reconnaissance." Herman ordered, as he pressed the butt of his LMG against his shoulder and cautiously opened the door of the house with a hole in the roof. Meanwhile, Heidi reached the roof of the partially collapsed house in a single jump, before sprinting off and cleanly landing through the window of another homestead.

Herman found a dud artillery round in the home with a hole in the roof. A 155mm, hollow steel shell painted olive drab with yellow markings. Gingerly skirting around it, Herman cleared his way through the surrounding rooms, coming across indications of a life suddenly disturbed. Broken plates. A deep red sofa overturned, with deep slash marks in it. Fluff was scattered about, with steel springs poking through the red fabric. Empty brass casings, and a .45 calibre handgun broken neatly into two halves. Red stains. Herman averted his eyes and twitched his nose at the smell, before proceeding with his sweep.

Heidi peered out of a shattered window, in the direction of the Poor Faunus District. Grey plumes of smoke rose towards the sky, although she could not ascertain their cause. Heading back, she grabbed a grubby, torn pillow of a bed and made her way back to the chosen house, where she conducted a quick sweep. The walls were thankfully intact-but a particularly strong Grimm could burst through. Twelve or so windows, in varying states of disrepair. The living room had a hole leading to the kitchen. As she strode upstairs, she noted the spent bullet casings and as she opened the washroom door, she nearly retched. A single WF member in bloodstained and bullet holed overalls lay against the sink, clutching a 12-gauge pump shotgun. Looking around, she noted that the walls were marked with gunfire, and upon opening the upper bedroom door she came across a few decaying Vale guardsmen.

 _"The Prince definitely doesn't come up here. Going to have to lock down the kitchen and living room downstairs."_ She thought as she knelt to search the bodies for useful equipment.

10 minutes later, Herman and Heidi reunited at the home and retrieved the comatose Atlesian from the Paladin's pilot compartment. The Prince was a different story.

"HOW DARE YOU-"This time Heidi grabbed him and pulled the brat into the home before he could announce their presence to the world. Just then, the Paladin sunk to its knees and the speakers vibrated as the entire walker glowed green. Bit by bit, a kneeling Eliphates formed below the open pilot's hatch, and Herman waited till he was fully formed before hoisting the tech geek over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Shut that hatch, 'Dorf, and lend a hand in barricading the entryways." Herman barked as he brought Eliphates into the living room, where Heidi was speaking to the Prince. Judging by his wide green eyes, her intense whispering and the fact that he wasn't squealing any more meant all was well. For now. Quickly, he hastened out and began to set up fortifications.

Eliphates sank against a tattered sofa, engrossed in his own thoughts. Piloting the Paladin had taken a lot out of him, and his eyelids felt like three-ton weights had been clipped onto them. Yet nagging thoughts prevented him from resting easy.

" _I had my doubts when I saw him, but after running a facial scan as I piloted the Paladin, there can be no further confusion. The terrorist Herman Grauer, and with him the Prince of Vale. His two companions didn't show up on the database-but they must also be White Fang. I must find a way to escape them, with the Prince. I wonder if that's why they came to the Poor Faunus District. If there is an outpost like that Faunus girl Heidi said, then surely they mean to hand him over to their superiors. I, Eliphates, cannot allow this to happen. As soon as I regain my strength I'll re-pilot, have them shove in that pilot and Prince into the compartment, and rush for safety."_

With these thoughts swirling in his mind, he tried to drift off to sleep-but it did not come easy to him. He kept hearing the terrible screeching of Herman's chainsword, and within his mind's eye he saw the remains of the victims from the bombing. Acid roiled in his stomach, and his mouth felt dry all of a sudden as his heart fluttered in anxiety. Opening his right eye a little bit, he saw the Faunus himself, peering out of a window with his hand on the handle of his chainsword. Shuddering, the tech geek quickly shut his eye.

Herman looked back at Eliphates, whose dark skin was beaded with sweat and his nostrils rapidly constricting and dilating while his chest heaved and fell in rapid motion.

 _"Man, his Semblance must've drained a lot out of him. Just like mine does, I guess."_ The Faunus shrugged and walked past the boy, all the while feeling constant chills spreading from his spin and through his own body. This time, he welcomed the sensation. It kept him sharp and alert, even though the buzzing in his brain grew incredibly tiresome. Perhaps it kept him far too alert, because Herman's eyes began to rapidly flit about, picking up all sorts of minute details. Spider, coloration dark brown, three light spots on each side of the sternum, its web less than 1 inch in diameter, spacing of silk thread-

His sensitive ears swivelled about like crazy, picking up the spider's soft stridulations, a breeze knocking a tablecloth off, a soft groan from behind, footsteps louder than normal behind him-

Herman whipped around, Nihil raised. In response, Beckendorf jumped ten feet back, holding his hands up in surrender. In one hairy hand he clutched a green tin of beans, the other a worn down can opener.

"Peace, bro!"

"Sorry. Just a bit jumpy." Herman lowered Nihil and sighed in exasperation. So much happening, so much to worry about-it was a wonder he wasn't losing it already. Yet as he looked at his friends, he knew why. His lips twitched upwards, and he went about his patrol as the skies outside darkened and the howls of the Grimm punctuated each thunderclap.

His thoughts faded away as he saw Heidi. Her forehead was lined and wrinkled with thought as her eyebrows were deeply furrowed, and her upper lip was trembling. Her apple-green eyes too, had a thin liquid film forming, and a few drops of clear liquid dribbled from the left.

She looked up, sensing Herman's gaze, and he braced himself. Would she be mad, or ashamed, or-

"Herman." She said, her voice trembling as she motioned at him to come closer.

"Yeah?" He replied, his voice trembling somewhat. Yet he complied and came closer to her till she was but an inch away.

"I…I need to scout ahead. This is the Poor Faunus District, and we need to find where our enemies are-"

"You want to find your mother and sister." Herman suddenly said in a hushed tone, cutting her off. Heidi blushed slightly, and looked away before answering.

"Yes. Their house- _my_ house-is just two blocks away." She looked back at him, quickly wiping her eyes with her forearm.

"I can hold down this location till you get back. Go." Herman said quickly. She nodded quickly, before heading upstairs. As he saw her go, Herman felt a slight twinge in his heart as he remembered his parents.

" _How long has it been since I lost mine?"_ He wondered. He could barely remember their faces, which sent a jolt of shock through his heart. " _They're fading away. I wonder if I lose my friends, will they fade away too?"_ At these words, he felt boiling at the back of his eyes, and he rushed on to continue with his patrol, trying to think of something else.

In the kitchen, Beckendorf had wrenched the lid open, and was now scooping little brownish lumps coated in an orange liquid into little plastic cups scavenged from a cupboard. Taking six cups, three at a time, he set them on the cracked wooden table on the living room.

"An unknown Atlesian pilot, a pampered brat, a tech geek with the ability to steal vehicles, a chainsaw wielding psycho who is also my best friend, his girl, and me." The reindeer sighed beneath his breath. "A regular family reunion. Awkward, uncomfortable and an atrocity upon family values." He sank to his knees, and began to pick at the beans.

"Uhm? Are humans meant to eat this?" Beckendorf looked at the Prince, who was staring at one of the plastic cups. The orange liquid was beginning to congeal and form blobs.

"Yeah, man. Just raise the cup like this, and tip it down your throat." The Prince did as he was told, and immediately coughed and spluttered, before spitting out an orange and brown glob onto the floor. Beckendorf wrinkled his nose.

"Uck! I mean to rephrase-are _Lords_ like me meant to eat this garbage?" At this Beckendorf leaned close, nearly choking on his beans as he spoke.

"Kid, don't talk too loudly about being a member of the Royal Family. There are plenty of people outside this room who would hurt you for personal gain." The little boy nearly lost his composure at being called kid, but managed to speak in a relatively calm tone.

"You mean like the bad guys Heidi told me about? Terrorists?" Beckendorf rapidly nodded, and the little Prince wondered if the Reindeer's head would fly right off.

"Yeah, yeah. White Fang, and unsavoury humans."

"Humans? But I thought Faunus were-"

"People are greedy kid, be they Faunus or Humans. Desperate guy will do anything for their survival, even hurt a kid. The fact that you're, well, of high rank means that you're a prime target-and you can be used." Beckendorf spoke quickly, his beans forgotten. "That's why we're gonna get you back, safe and sound."

"Is that so?" The Prince wondered, looking at Beckendorf's antlers. "My father said all Faunus are lazy, and drink too much, and when humans try to civilize them they fight back. He said this last month or so, dressed in a green velvet bathrobe, sitting in a large green armchair as he sipped his wine." He put a little finger against his chin, where a bean had adhered to his skin because of the thick congealed orange sauce.

"Do you really believe that?" Beckendorf said, somewhat harshly. The Prince looked up in surprise.

"I don't know. I suppose you will have the opportunity to prove your loyalty to the crown, then." He lay back on the carpet as Beckendorf looked at the beans, his appetite gone.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Heidi lay quiet as a mouse behind a crumbling wall as a half-track drove by. WF soldiers marched alongside, and she saw a Faunus woman in a purple jumpsuit standing on top of the vehicle, palms planted on her hips, as if she were challenging someone to shoot her.

Heidi waited for the sound of the engine to fade away, before softly pressing her way through the overgrown grass towards her destination. Only a few houses now away, but White Fang soldiers were on patrol. Fortunately, the haphazard and corruption-riddled development of the Poor Faunus District resulted in many twists and turns, homes where there ought not to have been homes, encroachments and other building violations which provided a myriad of alternate paths for her to take.

She peeked over some bricks to see a squadron digging away the rubble of a collapsed house, trying to reach the faint cries of help coming from within. Meanwhile, two female WF soldiers attempted to fix up a broken jeep, with a third loading supplies into it. Behind them, a ragged family of Faunus were clustered, watching the proceedings. To her right were a group of bored Faunus clustered beneath a tin-roofed rain shelter, digging into their food without any apparent joy. A little Faunus girl ran up to them, and one of the soldiers tossed her half of an orange, before ordering her to scarper. Heidi shifted to a crouching prison, and leapt from her position onto a rooftop in front of her. In the distance, an unemotional male voice droned over a loudspeaker.

"The Vale government has failed to provide you with your basic rights; food, shelter, clothing, and safety. When the walls fell and Beacon collapsed, they left you to your fates. There is nothing in Vale for you any more, save for death. If any Faunus wishes to be free, they shall come to the designation evacuation points by 12:30 pm sharp tomorrow. Else, they may join their ancestors in the afterlife, and behold their tears."

Heidi crouched and ran onwards, staying low to avoid snipers. She leapt onto a lower roof, breaking her fall with a roll. Only one house left-

She quickly flattened against a radiator as two shadows spread over the roof. Within moments, a WF soldier and a Faunus civilian came into her field of view, but thankfully their backs were towards here. Heidi began to carefully edge away, as they spoke.

"Will we really be safe? Where does Zheeliyony intend to take us?" A male voice spoke, trembling slightly.

"I don't know. What I do know is that if you don't come with me, the humans will string you up." A female voice spoke, firm as steel.

"No, it can't be. I have friends-"

"Keep your voice low. Do you really think your friendship with them will hold up when a mob comes to lynch you for your 'collaboration'?" The female's voice had a mocking tone to it. "I've seen it happen, even before this entire mess. Humans just need one excuse make a weaker target the cause of their woes and create monsters out of them. Then they can commit all sorts of horrible deeds without feeling monstrous themselves." She spat, before speaking again, her voice softer. "Please, brother. Come with me. Your older sister will protect you."

"Yes. Yes, I will, Agatha."

At this point, Heidi was hanging from the edge of the rooftop, and had dropped down to the front porch. The sibling's conversation had given her food for thought, but she recalled what Herman had showed her, and what her former allies had committed on their operations in Atlas and Vale.

" _Perhaps both our races have committed far too many crimes in 'retribution'. Eye for an eye, tooth for tooth-we shall never stop until one or the other have torn each other's throats out. Then the Grimm will feed on the carrion."_ The very thought made her head feel heavy, and she felt a headache come on. She skipped across a patch of asphalt pavement, and climbed over the battered white front gate. Looking upon the sodden garden, she beheld a cluster faded red roses, as well as an overgrown ivy creeping down the rust iron trellis. The trellis was propped against a concrete wall of her house, covered in blue peeling paint. She scrabbled up the wall, and made her way along the slanted wall until finally, she was tentatively crouched outside the window leading to her mother's bedroom.

The window was shut, but not locked. Raindrops beat fiercely against the glass, but Heidi was oblivious to the weather. She was breathing heavily now, her mind racing with a dozen thoughts, and her mouth was dry. Slowly, she raised her arm and slid the glass aside before reaching through the faded blue curtain, parting it.

The bedroom was small, as befitting the homes in the District. It was only 10x10 square feet, with a small dresser, bed, and little wardrobe. The lights were off, and Heidi saw a small figure lying in bed, its chest rising and falling softly. Slowly, she stepped in, her sabatons clanking against the bare cement floor.

There was no doubt-it was her. Just by looking at the back of her head, the shape of her body, the light blue hair and little gills on her neck-which fluttered softly-Heidi knew that her mother was there. Slowly, she moved forward, her chest filled with a mixture of emotions.

" _What will she say? Will she be glad to see me? Have the Fang told her about my…."_

She drew closer, edging around the bed until she could see her mother's wrinkled and lined face. Her eyes were shut, and her nostrils softly dilated as she slept. Heidi gently sat on the bed beside her, and for a long while simply stared at her mother. She did not know how long she gazed upon her mother's visage, but sure enough, her mother opened her eyes. The sky-blue pupils widened in amazement, before blinking several times. All the while, Heidi became aware of how much she was sweating.

Her mother rose gently from the bed, raising a thin arm to gently caress her daughter's face. Heidi cringed slightly as her mother's wrinkly fingers brushed against her face, but leaned forward, extending her own arm about the back her mother's head, pressing it against her own forehead. She closed her eyes as a warm fire spread through her heart and chest.

They broke free of one another's embrace, and stared one another in the eyes for a long while. Heidi found herself smiling, but a small thought kept nagging at her brain.

" _Her smile….that stiffness, and the coldness in her eyes….I only saw that when she comforted me after she and papa fought."_ For a brief moment, Heidi nearly panicked; she wondered if she had done something wrong. She wondered where her sister was.

"Mama, where is my big sister?"

The older woman's eyes grew misty, and Heidi's heart seized up. Tears began to trickle from her mother's eyes, and then Heidi found her own eyes welling up with hot tears.

"Mama, what happened? Where is she? Why don't you say something?" Heidi nearly shouted on the last question, her relief at seeing her mother quickly turning to anguish.

Her mother parted her own lips, revealing red craters where teeth used to be, and a short stub of meat in place of a tongue. She raised her right arm, and pulled down the sleeve of her blue nightgown. Tattooed-no, _branded_ , was the inscription:

"GENUS PRODITOR."

One cannot say if Heidi wept, or for how long if she had. You are better off concluding what you would have done in a similar situation.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Hey, hey! She's waking up!" Beckendorf called for Herman, awakening Eliphates in the process. Herman peeked from the doorway, and saw that the red-headed Atlesian they had saved had indeed woken up. The woman groaned, and tried to rise from the cushions, but only ended up coughing. Beckendorf rushed over, a bottle of water in hand. Outside, the skies had darkened to a pitch black, as rain pattered against the walls and windows.

"Here, here. Drink this-do not exert yourself." He said in a soothing tone, and she consented to lie back and drink several quarts of water.

"Where…..where am I?" She croaked.

"Amongst allies. We were fighting a rouge Paladin, and as we wrenched open the pilot's compartment, you fell out." 'Dorf explained, capping the bottle of water. The woman groaned, and pressed an emaciated arm against her forehead.

"Gods, how long was I in there? Weeks, must have been….wait-"She looked at Beckendorf's antlers, and the Faunus sighed, having seen that expression of shock multiple times. "-you're a Faunus!"

"Keep it down!" Beckendorf hissed. "We are still far from safety. Yes, I'm a Faunus. Surprised?"

"I figured my rescuers, if there were any, would be the Atlesian Army."

"You see any in this room, sunshine?" Beckendorf motioned towards the occupants with his arm. In retrospect this was a mistake. As the female pilot propped herself up on one arm to survey the room, her eyes fell upon Herman Grauer. Almost immediately she tried to get to her feet, but stumbled and landed on her face, yelling bloody murder all the while. This sent Eliphates and the Prince into a panic, who promptly pressed up against the walls and began searching for a way out. Meanwhile, Herman raised Nihil. This did not help matters very much.

"You're that terrorist!" She shrieked, smacking away Beckendorf's hand. "And you're his entourage! Scum!" This provoked a variety of responses.

"You're gonna bring the entire White Fang division down on us!" Beckendorf hollered.

"No, I just got caught up in all of this…" Eliphates muttered, glancing away.

"I MOST CERTAINLY AM NOT! I AM THE PRINCE OF VALE! PRINCE CELADON CHELMSFORD-MONTAGUE REGIS TERRIGOFF DU-HAUTE BELLEGARD!" The Prince wailed.

"Good grief, gimme a fuckin' break." Herman muttered, pressing his index fingers against his temples.

And then, there was complete silence. Everyone shut up, and the female pilot immediately fainted once more. Everyone was staring right behind Herman, who quickly whipped around, LMG raised.

Heidi Azura, swords drawn, dripping with rain and red gore.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Magazine locked, knife sharpened, NVDs fully charged, belt tightened. Aurum was ready to burst in, and bring the terrorist to justice-and regain his former glory of course. He advanced, weapon raised, his approach bringing him south of the living room.

Meanwhile, the Assassin flexed his metal arm and clenched his steel fingers. Drawing a blade from his boot, he advanced at a steady pace, north of the living room. It was time to avenge his pride.


	40. Escape

Chapter 38: Escape from the Poor Faunus District

With fifty-ton weights attached to his feet, Herman shuffled across to Heidi. Behind her blood-stained helm, feral green eyes glistened. She stood in all her crimson glory, blades by her sides, tense and immobile. A single red droplet slid down the pale blue shoulder guard and dripped onto the carpet.

Nihil was up in an instant, spitting red fury. When the firing subsided, Herman shifted his finger off the trigger and squinted past the trail of smoke wafting up his barrel. There wasn't much wall left to speak of, and whatever was left was peppered with holes the length of a human eye. Heidi stood frozen, Herman having entirely missed her. He reached for another magazine from within his coat, letting the spent one drop onto the pile of brass casings at his feet. _Clang._

"What the hell- "Heidi began, having snapped out of it for a moment, but Herman raised a finger to his lips. Heidi would've said more, but she saw that his eyes once more had taken that misty grey hue.

"Ahh…. shit…." A male voice weakly moaned from behind the wrecked concrete wall. Herman was upon the interloper in a moment, pulling the crumpled Robert Aurum out of the wreckage. His hat had been knocked clean off, and his long golden-yellow locks had spilled about his head, looking much like an explosion out of a comic book. "How…how did you know…" He muttered, before looking straight into Herman eyes.

"Next time you peek your head around a corner, make sure your bright yellow locks are tucked away. Oh, and try not to be so scared when sneaking about. I can almost smell it, let alone see it." Herman raised the specialist two feet of the ground, before slamming him into a wall.

"Why the hell are you here?"

"Y-y-you know w-w-why! I'm going to take, take, take my revenge…." The specialist messily stuttered, his voice growing fainter by the moment. Making a _harrumping_ noise in his throat, Herman dropped the wreck of a man.

"Is it too much to ask for people to leave me alone?"

"Leave you alone! You killed my sister! You murdered countless hundreds! You- "The specialist's eyes opened in defiant anger for a moment before once more dilating in fear and shaking all over.

"I've done terrible things, yes, but I'm trying to move forward and make amends. My friends and I risk more than our lives trying to redeem ourselves, but- "

"Herman." Heidi barked, snapping the wolf Faunus out of his monologue. "Leave him, because we have a bigger problem. Namely, one right here."

Herman whipped around, and nearly choked. " _There is no end to these damn reunions."_

Everyone had rushed by Herman's side, with the Prince hiding behind Herman's large frame, and the red-headed woman leaning on Beckendorf. She weakly held up a pistol, her baggy overalls forming multiple folds over her arm, while Beckendorf held his shotgun in one hand. Heidi bent her knees slightly, with one sword held over her head and the other level with her stomach.

"What a motley crew you've assembled, Private Herman Grauer." Hassan stroked his chin with metallic fingers, as the other fleshy hand gripped a combat knife. A leather strap ran across his chest, connected to a large sniper rife on his back. On his left ear he wore a large white boxy device, which connected to a dark brown square lens covering his left eye. The rest of his attire was dark as the night, splattered with rain. "How long has it been, traitor? Since you took my arm?"

"You should've been dead! Even if you survived the shock and blood loss, there were Grimm everywhere!" Herman could feel the Prince tremble against his leg.

"Oh, I should've. I should've. But as they say, hard times bring out hidden qualities in people." The assassin flexed his steel arm. "Would you care for a demonstration?"

The color was slowly returning to Herman's eyes, and he felt a massive headache coming on, yet he saw that Hassan's outline was a strong dark brown.

A few beeps were emitted from the device on Hassan's ear, and he looked thoughtful for a moment.

"My, the scanner says that you three have grown more powerful as well. This will prove entertaining."

Herman charged forward, knocking aside the table upon which Beckendorf had set a few candles. They were immediately put out as the table was turned to matchwood, and in the darkness, Herman saw Hassan smile.

Cold steel pressed against his throat, and Herman grabbed Hassan's arm with his gauntlet. The assassin smirked, pressing his arm against the boy's soft flesh.

" _He was in front of me! How did he- "_

And just like that, the band of steel about his throat was gone. Herman spun wildly, and saw the Assassin striking Heidi in the stomach. Her eyes swelled, and the rest panicked and fled through the hallway.

Herman charged the Assassin, but as he was right upon him, Hassan melted away. Herman grabbed Heidi and helped her up, before running through the hallway and out into the storm. Gunfire raged amidst the lightening, but neither could tell if the enemy was nearby or not. More worryingly, roars could be heard.

Aurum stretched his black-gloved fingers towards his weapon. There was an immense weight on his back, but if he could only get the gun-

Sharp steel pinned his hand to the ground, his Aura flaring. Hassan withdrew the knife, before waiting for the specialist to reach for the weapon again. When Robert Aurum worked up his courage, down came the blade, striking like thunder onto his thigh. It was like a cat playing with its prey.

"HELP ME!" He screamed, reaching towards Herman and Heidi. His vision was blurry, and he couldn't tell if tears or rain were running down his face. " _Begging help from my mortal enemy…...how could it have come to this?_ " He gasped, tasting salt as the blade cruelly dug into his thigh.

Herman fired off several tracer rounds, briefly illuminating the darkness as Heidi let loose a volley of Fire Dust arrows, their tips blazing. Hassan immediately cartwheeled backwards, but a few bullets and arrows caught him, knocking him backwards. Herman would've fled right there and then, but then he saw Aurum on the ground, looking pathetic with mud caking his face.

"Find Beckendorf and run! I'll get back to you guys!" Herman ran forward, grabbing the specialist's weapon before kneeling and seizing the man's hand. Aurum looked up, and Herman was struck to see the man's eyes watering. Just as he pressed the dagger-pistol into Aurum's hand, he felt a massive force hammer into his face, and once more he lay on his back and faced the pitch-black sky.

He got up instantly, dodging another round just in time. In the darkness, he saw Hassan sprinting full tilt towards him, rifle raised. The Assassin dodged the turf where the fire arrows lay, as they had set fire to the damp bushes and grass even in the storm, illuminating the nearby landscape.

Another gunshot, and this time Herman deflected it off Nihil before diving out of the way. Hassan tossed his weapon aside and leapt into the air, components of his arm shifting into a curved, bladed shape. The hook shot forward, attached to the rest of the arm like a chain, and snaked through the air. With the rain beating into his face, Herman could barely make out its path, much less effectively parry or dodge it.

Then the area in front of him lit up with a magnificent series of orange-red explosions, obscuring the chain and even the Assassin himself. Herman threw up his arms as a wave of hot air, enough to cook any Grimm swept past him, and for a brief while no rain fell upon him. Looking back, he saw the Paladin with Heidi, Beckendorf, and the redhead sitting atop.

" **COME ON!** " Eliphates commanded, and Herman eagerly hopped onto the machine's arm-yet their battle was not done. Heidi leapt off and sliced a few Grimm to bits, as did Herman, while 'Dorf and the Atlesian lady blasted away, supplementing the Paladin's mighty arsenal.

Hassan coughed and sat up, before stabbing backwards, his arm going cleanly through a Beowulf's throat. He jerked his arm right, decapitating the beast, before sitting up.

"Tch." Pressing his fingers against the white box, he spoke.

"Raudona. They're on the move. North Quadrant, Poor Faunus District. Oh, you're already there? Excellent." He spoke rapidly, his eyes fixed on the receding shape of the Paladin. "Save the wolf for me. I need a new coat."

Aurum coughed and spat, crawling beneath a van as the ground beneath him rumbled. Forcing his panicky gasps to a still, he saw the treads of an APC narrowly miss the van, accompanied by the countless boots of WF troopers. Some of the troops barked commands and broke formation as the Grimm converged on their position, but most kept marching on while discharging their weaponry.

" _Herman…. stay alive….so I can kill you later._ "

Raudona yawned as she pulled the trigger on her halberd, turning a Beowulf's head to little chunks. These Grimm were such a bother. Still, her objective was just right ahead, and it was fortunate that they too had to deal with the Grimm, keeping the Paladin's armaments off them.

" _I need to get inside one of those. Absolute destructive power, crushing enemies like ants beneath you…. wouldn't that be something?"_ She yawned and sat down atop the halftrack. Irritably, she tapped the top of the vehicle.

"Driver! Make this tin can go faster, or I'll find someone else who can!" Immediately, she had to hold on tight to the metal rim of the top hatch. They zoomed past a burning APC, the VDF logo barely distinguishable from the charred black husk of a vehicle, and soon were only a few meters behind the Paladin.

Herman sliced off a Beowulf's arm, before kicking it in the center, sending it flying into a Creep. Instinctively he stabbed backwards, impaling another Beowulf before lifting the blade skywards-with the beast writhing and flailing as it was ripped apart from the inside-and shaking it off like a dog would shake off water. Following up with a pirouette, his blade passed through two more Creep's throats at once, sending their heads flying into a corner.

Heidi ran up the side of a building and flipped backwards, somersaulting gracefully through the air and onto the back of an Ursa Major. She buried her twin blades into each side of the Ursa's neck, and pulled upwards, sending its head flying off. Using the corpse of the Grimm to push off, she went flying into a pack of three Beowolves, barreling the middle one over and rapidly decapitating it before spinning and shredding the remaining Beowolve's arms to ribbons. She then buried her blades into each beast's craniums, before jerking left and right respectively, sending dark matter and bits of bone everywhere.

Eliphates utilized the Paladin's armaments to send several small Nevermores spiraling through the sky, their bodies alight. He then turned his armaments on a flock of Griffins, the 7.62×51mm six-barrel rotary machine guns shredding them into a pile of floating feathers. An Ursa came barreling through a wrecked building, but the Paladin dodged-causing Beckendorf and the Atlesian lady to cling on for dear life-and blew a massive crater in its body with the 40mm gun. Within the metal confines of the beast, Price Celadon trembled. For him, it was like being within some massive monster's belly, enshrouded by darkness and jerked about with every grumbling and vibration.

Raudona smirked. Their magnificent lightshow was alerting every WF unit in the vicinity, while simultaneously ensuring that the Grimm would be drawn to them-depleting their ammunition in the process.

Herman leapt back onto the Paladin, followed by Heidi. Tired, they slumped down and leaned against one another, with their eyes fixed on the oncoming half-track.

"Eliphates, blow that to bits." Herman said, his eyes half closed, oblivious to the roaring of the Paladin's guns.

 **"ROTARY MACHINE GUNS ARE ENGAGING AERIAL TARGETS. 40MM AMMUNITION DEPLETED. BALLISTIC MISSILES ARE TOO HAZARDOUS. HEAVY FLAMER NON-OPERATIONAL. FUEL LINE JAMMED.** "

"Damn. Seems like we'll have to handle it ourselves."

"I see someone atop that half-track. He or she must be confident to expose themselves in such a way." Heidi said as she stood up. She then looked behind her, in the direction of the Paladin's movement.

"Underpass coming up. There's some construction equipment up there as well." Just then, the Paladin rocked violently, forcing the riders to hold on for dear life. Herman slipped on the slick metal surface but was able to grab onto the machine's 'arm' and pull himself up as his feet kicked about in the air.

"Anti-armor, twenty meters to our right!" The Atlesian lady cried out. Acrid smoke filled the air.

Another projectile went soaring two inches above Herman's elbow, spiraling upwards before detonating right above their heads. Red-hot shrapnel rained about Herman, causing him to wince and nearly lose his grip.

"RPG teams to the left side! More on the way!" Beckendorf screamed, his voice cracking. A thunderbolt split the sky, providing brief illumination of the desolate landscape. Herman saw multiple squads, unevenly spaced apart, picking their way through the rubble as they moved into firing position. Herman also saw Grimm scuttling between their lines, attacking the WF troopers, causing flashes of light to break out-giving away their positions.

"Herman, I have a plan." Heidi said, and Herman crawled over the arm, closer to her.

Moments later, Beckendorf was standing by the open door of the pilot's compartment, holding the Atlesian lady by the arm. He could feel the bone and could see the panic in her wide eyes.

"It'll be a squeeze, as it's only meant for one person, but- "

"No! NO! I won't go back in there!"

"Ma'am-!"

"NOT AGAIN, I WILL NOT BE CONFINED AGAIN!" She tried to twist away and nearly made Beckendorf fall, but he yanked her close.

"WE'LL ALL DIE IF YOU DON'T, SOLDIER! EVEN THE KID! THE PRINCE OF VALE!"

"But…it's so dark…"

Gunfire and raindrops pattered across the metal frame, and Beckendorf could feel Eliphates shudder.

"Eliphates can't keep this up for long! You have to go in!" With that, he shoved her and jumped in along. The pilot's compartment closed behind them with a deafening clang, sealing out all light save for the internal red light. Now there were three people uncomfortably squeezed inside the compartment with the Prince squished into a corner, forced to sit. Beckendorf was uncomfortably close to the Atlesian lady, who was sobbing and shuddering. His antlers were pressed up against the top, bending slightly. He prayed they would not snap. Agonizingly, he snaked his arm up from the cramped quarters and put his hand on her shoulder.

"Hey. Hey. I'm Beckendorf. Ben Beckendorf. I'm a reindeer Faunus, from Menagerie."

She quieted down a little, before turning her head a little bit. Close up, Beckendorf saw her face was peppered with little orange-red freckles and she had a dimple on her cheek. Her fiery red hair cascaded past her shoulders, and his face was nearly buried in it. The Prince whimpered slightly, pressed into an uncomfortable position.

"Why do they want me?" The kid sniffled, shaking all over. "I never did anything to the Faunus."

The Atlesian woman shook all over, her eyes tightly shut as she whispered to herself.

"Stuff your dad's done, I suppose." Beckendorf whispered as the entire compartment shook, nearly throwing him forward in the limited area. He felt a little weight lie against his leg, and he looked down to see Celadon huddled by his leg. Slowly, the reindeer brought his hand close to the boy's hair, softly ruffling it.

"Hold on tight, kid. Herman and Heidi'll take care of 'em."

"You four are very nice. Herman is stinky and he gave me this stinky but warm coat, so I guess he is okay too." The Prince burbled, and Beckendorf recognized that the boy was trying not to cry. Beckendorf licked his parched lips, trying to find an answer.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Raudona frowned as she saw a soldier lying in a pinkish red puddle of rain, stretching his hand outwards and crying out in pain. The half track slowed down, and she immediately bashed the driver's compartment.

"Did I tell you to slow down! Go on ahead! And don't you turn, there's no time for that."

Oblivious to the crunching of bones and splitting of skin, she rested her chin on her knuckles. WF troopers ran in blind panic, joined advancing squads, before they too came running back missing one or two members.

" _Are the traitors this powerful? At this rate that Paladin and the Prince will slip away!"_ Even now she saw the Paladin crouch, lowering its profile as it neared into the dark maw of the underpass.

Heidi crouched in the corner, before springing forward, cutting down the officer. The sergeant attempted to attack, but she shoved a blade through his arm joint before slitting open his belly. At this sight, rest of the unit ran. Spinning around, she swept out the legs of two hostiles before sprinting, leaping onto a wall, sprinting along the wall and landing atop a Faunus wielding an RPG. He landed with a _thump_ , pressing the trigger as he fell-sending the grenade into the upper levels. Concrete showered down upon the enemy, and Heidi had to dodge shattered corpses as well as sections of the wall. Rising, she continued her search for more anti-armor units.

Herman lifted a White Fang trooper by his collar, before throwing him against a gaggle of his compatriots. Howling in unison with his chainsword, he mantled over cover, sending scores of soldiers flying at a time. Narrowly dodging a few buckshot rounds, Herman bashed the hilt of his weapon into the offending enemy's face before swiftly turning and gut-punching another enemy, who immediately doubled up, yellowish-red vomit spilling from beneath her mask. Looking in front of him, he saw the sharp profile of a 7.92×57mm general-purpose machine gun mounted on a tripod, set up in the rubble.

He ran down an alleyway, ducking low. Bullets flew over his head, and grenades landed at his heels. Leaping through a window, he lay still in the shattered glass as the ground rattled and all the other windows broke. Once more he got up and grabbed an opponent through the window, hurling him over his shoulder before sprinting up the staircase and leaping from the first floor onto a machinegun position. The gunner crumbled beneath his heels, and Herman bashed the loader with his hilt before delivering a high kick to a third enemy, sending him soaring upwards.

Turning around, Herman saw a few more squads bearing anti-tank weaponry. He smiled, lapping up their raw fear. Raising his chainsword, he charged the gunline. His howls mingled with the chainsword's screeching caused them to break and run; only the foolhardiest opened fire. Herman dodged and parried before shoulder-barging an enemy into the dirt. A sudden detonation to his right made his ears ring, but Herman was unshakable. More mortar rounds landed to his left and right; his position was being triangulated. Zigzagging down the streets, he saw that Heidi was nipping in and out of shadows, corners, and alleyways-leaving behind a trail of bodies. Herman slid, dodging a stream of fire from a florist's shop-the enemy had set up more machineguns-and continued charging. The emplacement positions behind him fell silent-Heidi had reached them. He pitied them.

Now he smashed full-on into a mortar position, sending the tube flying. Amidst the confusion and panic of CQC, he found himself holding a mortar shell, which he promptly chucked at an incoming group. An orangish-reddish explosion, limbs flying, and agonized screaming. Turning on his heel, Herman sprinted back towards the underpass. WF troopers were fleeing in blind panic, some even having ditched their weaponry. A few Grimm tried assailing him but were promptly cut to ribbons. Soon, he was standing before the cavernous maw of the underpass. Although the enemy was mostly broken by now due to his and Heidi's actions, the true threat was the woman aboard her half-track.

The halftrack stopped, and the woman riding it leapt into the air, performing a somersault before landing gracefully on both her feet. Herman saw that she wore a pink jumpsuit with black spirals on her kneecaps and elbows, as well as white traces along her legs. She was rather slim, and her hands were quite large, resembling hairless tarantulas. Her mouth was wide, dipping down in the middle. Her purple eyes were oval shaped and protuberant, with her eyelashes pronounced. They curled outwards, as if to ensnare onlookers. Even in this rain, he could smell something sweet, and strangely entrancing.

"My, you're quite a fighter. A normal warrior would've collapsed by now, yet something keeps you going. Is it the look of fear upon your enemies' face, and their screams?" She smirked, casually tilting her halberd to impale a Creep which leapt from above. Even so it struggled, till she pulled a trigger and blew its head clean off. Herman said nothing, slowly stepping forward with his blade leveled at her. He kept staring her in the eye.

"Do I look life your girlfriend?" She teased in a sultry voice.

"Tsk. You look hideous." Herman said, although he felt his face growing hot against the cool rain. Not letting her get the advantage, he charged and swung his sword about his head before bringing it in a downwards strike. She sidestepped, though stumbled when the asphalt shattered, sending cracks all around it. Seizing his chance, Herman shoulder-barged her before smashing Nihil against her neck, crushing her into the street. Now Herman stood by her side, and he brought his foot down hard on her stomach. The air was now thick with the sweet stench, which pushed past his nostrils and swirled about his brain. She looked up at him, eyes glistened, right hand feebly clutching the halberd.

He couldn't bring the sword down. The halberd smacked him in the chest, cause him to stagger backwards, but now his movements seemed sluggish and confused. Black spirals materialized about his eyes, at the center of which was this woman. He was fixated on her face and body, oblivious to the rain, the thunder, the Grimm, the men screaming in pain and fear, everything. She was everything-

A sack filled with concrete went flying and smashed into Raudona, knocking her the ground and winded her. Her halberd flew out of her hands and she slowly got up, cursing the brownish grey powder that had covered her jumpsuit. A large quantity had even slipped down the collar of her jumpsuit, causing irritation.

" _Damn! A few moments more, and my Semblance, Spiral of Desire, would've made him my thrall!_ "

She ran forward, rage filling her brain and overcoming her tactical sense as she kicked a swaying Herman in the chest. He was sent flying onto the upper railing of the underpass, which yielded beneath him and crumpled.

Slowly, he picked himself up and looked back at the construction vehicles, the bits of the plan cutting past the confused state of his mind.

" _Get on your feet. Get on your bloody feet._ "

"Hmm. A bit heavy, but I can lift it."

"Herman!" Heidi leapt before Raudona and slashed at her before rapidly joining the blades and firing multiple arrows at the woman's legs and feet. The ice spread rapidly, though it also began to melt due to the rainwater.

"Oh, it's you. The traitor girl. Would you like to know what I did to your sister, traitor girl-AAAAAAAAAGGHHHHHHHHHH!"

Heidi brought her boot into the woman's face, squishing the flesh. She spun, bringing her elbow into the woman's side before jabbing her forefinger into Raudona's eye. Enraged, the woman stabbed multiple times with her halberd, forcing Heidi to duck and weave, but she closed the distance once more and stabbed her blades into Raudona's neck before shoving a knee into the woman's stomach.

"I don't need any explanations from you. Only your screams." Heidi spat, stepping back to admire her handiwork. Raudona gasped and spluttered but was unable to recover as her face was smashed into the asphalt with a powerful heel drop.

"I'm glad you're here. I could use some stress relief." Heidi said through gritted teeth, stepping back. Raudona slowly got up, using her halberd as support. She gritted her teeth and stared up at Heidi Azura.

"I'll skin you, like your sister."

"Spare me your pathetic taunts. You can't use something I never loved to torture me." Heidi smirked at the shocked expression on Raudona's face. The murderous woman had never seen this before in a victim. Most blubbered, screamed for vengeance, or begged for mercy. This was new. Raudona tilted her head, regarding the new specimen with a mix of anger and interest.

"What?"

"I felt affection for her, yes. She was very close to me. But the very moment I embarked on my path; I knew I'd have to close my heart to all affection and cut the strings of my past holding me back. That's right, even my dear family. So, you see, nothing you ever do can ever harm me."

Raudona struck outwards, catching Heidi in the side, but she easily twisted out and headbutted the woman. This time, she stayed down, feebly twitching. The halberd had fallen out of her grip, but Raudona still had one trick left. She reached for her zipper and pulled downwards, before rolling over.

Heidi gasped and leapt back. The woman wore a pink undershirt, lined with vials of Fire Dust. She scrabbled for the detonator but found herself unable to even move her arm. Bewildered, Raudona saw brown earth stick and solidify against her.

"Concrete and Earth Dust, and a crystal of Water Dust makes for a good sticking solution." She smirked.

"I'LL CHASE YOU DOWN, GIRL! I'LL SKIN YOUR FACE OFF! YOU HEAR ME, YOU BITCH!?" Raudona raged, her eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. Heidi took a step back, noticing cracks appear in the Earth Dust.

"Herman, do it now!" Heidi shouted, just as Raudona broke free and grabbed the detonator, flicking off the cap. She grinned widely, looking down at the black plastic spiral cord extending all the way to the first set across her waist-

"Huh?" A dark shadow was spreading beneath her, visible only due to the faint illumination provided by Fire Dust. She looked up and stared in disbelief.

Heidi took off running, trying not to tear up as she ran through the dark tunnel.

" _Forgive me, Sister. I'll always love you and will forever regret my inability to save you._ "

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"ROAD ROLLER DA!" Herman came flying down, holding onto the end of a massive road roller.

" _That's the coolest thing you could say, really?_ " Herman thought to himself, as the machine crushed Raudona and triggered the explosives. He went flying backwards, carried away on a hot cloud of air and landed against the ground with a loud smack and skidded several meters.

" _I swear, I could get used to getting blown up._ " He thought, looking at the glorious sunrise.

The rain had stopped, and the morning sun no longer hid its face through a mourning veil of black clouds. Golden red penetrated the dark clouds, shining upon his face as Heidi helped him up. Together, they watched the new dawn rise and bathe the tattered city in hope.

He leaned against her, and they limped back towards the Paladin. It had finally collapsed; the pilot's compartment was open. The Atlesian lady was carrying Eliphates, while the Prince of Vale rode on Beckendorf's back, playing with his antlers. Herman swore that they seemed to be slightly bent. The Prince shrugged off the coat, and flung it at Herman.

"Thanks, mister. But I don't need this stinky coat any more." Herman shrugged as he pulled it on, welcoming the warm embrace of his sherwani.

Just then, the roar of a jet's engine split the air. They all looked up and saw a squadron of VDF fighter jets soar through the air before breaking off the engage various Grimm targets. The ground rumbled, and they all looked back to see an armored column of vehicles, with VDF guardsmen marching alongside.

Although Herman was somewhat glad, apprehension again filled his heart. Their coming would herald his fate-he immediately scrabbled for the Atlesian tech stolen from the ship and shoved it into the inner lining of his Sherwani. He'd have to hide it the first chance he got.

Stepping forward, he took off his sheath and dropped his weapon to the ground, kneeling before the MP.

"Quit getting your clothes dirty." The officer commanded. Herman looked up in confusion. He also saw technicians swarming the Paladin, disengaging the exterior cameras and inspecting the metal beast.

"General Gaunt's at the Church, which is just a walk down this street. Get up and move-don't keep him waiting." With that, several MPs swarmed him and his friends, stripping them of their equipment. Thankfully, save for a few hasty pat-downs, they did not discover his inner pocket and they were soon being marched to what could be their final stop.


	41. Fate

Chapter 39: Fate

Gaunt walked to Solarus's room, relishing the feel of cool marble against his dry, cracked feet. He wasn't a religious man, and truth be told, he wasn't fond of the authority Solarus held over the refugee townsfolk. Yet he had to ask the priest to lend his men to their aid-the Vale Guard was overextended in its battle against the Grimm and the White Fang.

His eyes were always drawn to the bright splash of colors above the pulpit, the famous stained-glass pictures. Normally the General kept his mind focused on dry reality but the depictions would always make his mind wander and his imagination soar for as long as his eyes were glued upon their beauty. He compared himself to Oum's situation; a single man with a few key resources beset by Grimm on all fronts.

" _How did some holy man defend all of sentient life back then? We can barely do it today._ "

Stepping forward, the General's right hand returned to the holster by his hip. His fingers caressed the smooth metal handle while his left hand pushed open the door to Solarus's chamber. It was small and dark, with only a few beams of light shining from a circular ceiling window. The rays fell upon Solarus meditating upon a golden-brown mat. Two unlit candles were at each side, with one burning directly in front of him. He was clad in a rough spun white cloak, like many of his devotees, and he held the Book in his hands. Blobs of white wax dripped from the candle in front of him, puddling in a small black cup.

"Greetings, General. I am sorry for having no seat befitting your position, and so I must ask you to sit on the floor."

Mentally cursing his aching knees, the General knelt upon the harsh marble. Wanting to get back up as soon as possible, he spoke quickly but clearly.

"Father Solarus, I would request the aid of your men in relief efforts. With the aid of the Huntsmen, the Guard has swept most of the Grimm out of Vale and has secured the borders, yet the task of healing the spirits of an injured populace remains. You and your men can do that, as well as assist in the mop-up efforts."

Solarus said nothing for a long while, but only read.

"Is the situation so dire that you now find difficulty in conscripting civilians to charge into the meat grinder? Your sweep-up missed a few, for last night I heard roaring that was neither man nor animal." The priest said in a low yet mocking tone, his eyes not leaving the pages.

"This is our home, Father Solarus. One of the Kingdoms, a bastion of life. Are you saying we let it fall?" Gaunt's voice grew louder, but Solarus was unfazed.

"Of course not. A poor shepherd sleeps while the flock is butchered, and where would this Church be if not for its followers?"

"Which is exactly why I need your 'flock' to re-enforce the lines. I'll not shift them to frontline duty, but I need a solid support on which my men can fall back upon. The port is often targeted by White Fang guerillas, as are forward operating bases. But they wouldn't dare target the Church- "

"Desperate people will do anything, General. You surely know that. Since all of history humans have not only disdained and segregated their own kind, but Faunus as well. The White Fang's violent activism is only a desperate reaction, and the way you have pacified the city has only ensured the last few will dig in and fight with all their might."

"What do you suggest then? We sit at our outposts and get sniped at while the Grimm ravage our people? Watch as IEDs, car-bombs and ambushes by children no older than twelve thin our ranks? The only way- "Gaunt slammed his fist on the floor, causing the candles to shake "-to crush this militarism is with the military steamroller. I did not want to be the one to start the machine, but they forced my hand!"

Solarus noted with displeasure that specks of spit had stained the upper right corner of page 45.

"Ay, you were so unwilling to start the machine that you slept as the true enemy slithered past your gates. If you want true peace after the borders are secured and the guns fall silent, you will have to heal those you conquer."

"Talk sense, man. This isn't a conquest; this is a fight to hold onto what little land we've got left. How can we spend time kissing the hands and feet of those who terrorize our community?"

"There lies your blind spot, General. The Faunus are also a part of this community. To boot, your men are exhausted after this long battle and are frustrated with their leadership by the constant losses. They will be looking for someone to take it out on."

"Blind spot? Solarus, please answer my question. You've spun along this tangent for far too long, and I have a city to save. Will you lend a more active role or not?"

"Shall you part with five more minutes of your precious time and hear my modest proposals?"

Gaunt rubbed his eyes and tried to make himself comfortable for the next five minutes. He failed and his arse was considerably sore for the rest of the day.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"You went on a rampage immediately afterwards?" Herman asked, looking up and down at Heidi's bloodstained form. He could stare forever at the lovely red mingled with the blue white, for his heart beat powerfully in tandem with the roaring pulse of his arteries.

"Yes. I wanted to make them pay. I didn't care who it was, I just wanted them to suffer the same as I did. Just like you, I suppose, when the Schnees took everything." Heidi sighed, looking at the shackles that bound her wrists to the brick wall. Beckendorf had long fallen asleep, gently snoring with his head resting on Herman's shoulder.

He wouldn't have minded as much if it hadn't been for the fact that he treaded the risk of gouging out his left eye if he turned to look at his reindeer friend. They had been separated from the Prince and the Atlesian lady Fireheart, and Herman swore he saw Aurum stroll past his cell. However, the vengeful specialist was slouched over, dragging his feet, and barely looked at the imprisoned trio.

"Yeah, but after all this time, I kinda quit thinking about it. I know I sound crazy, Heidi. Who wouldn't want to kill the bastards who got your parents? Hell, I had one of them in my sights. But I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I guess all that time on the Atlesian front, all that time skulking alone after I defected, and all this time now has got me worrying about myself and you guys. Especially you." Herman had to choke out the last two words, as Heidi stared unblinkingly into his eyes.

"Is that why you act like such a goddamn sacrificial lamb? Like when you threw yourself between the Atlesian Knight's bullets, or when you charged into the Grimm when I stumbled, or when you went into your old rage after I took one measly little bullet? If you're that concerned about my well-being, Herman, maybe you should leave us the hell alone. You can't be some savior; you're not cut out for it. The way you act, charging straight into battle that aren't yours due to some misplaced sense of redemption, we'll all be ghosts." She spoke in icy tones, each word driving a nail into Herman's heart. He shivered in his chains, and his eyes burnt. Heidi sighed once more and spoke in softer tones.

"Look, Herman. I know you just want to leave all this behind. I know you want me-quit blushing; I've known for quite some time now-but you must look at the path you're walking and start thinking. All our decisions have led us here- "Heidi lifted the clinking shackles "-and for all we know a firing squad is coming for us. All we've been trained is how to start a fire with wet wood, how to camouflage a firing position, how stabbing a man in his chest with a bayonet is impractical, because the ribcage gets in the way. If we put down our guns, what will become of us?"

The nail was driven further and further, and the red juice kept leaking. Herman hung his head in shame, before finally looking back and speaking in ragged tones.

"Maybe I can't save us from what's going to happen. Perhaps I can't heal all your pain, Heidi. But I need you and Beckendorf so much that I can't imagine what I'd do alone. When I was alone in the dorms of Beacon, I kept fantasizing of when I'd finally see you again. That's why I hurl myself into hell's mouth again and again-I must have you. Together we can start again-I don't care how. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, I'll do whatever I can to get us out of this. Even if it means I die- "

"There you go being a bloody sacrificial lamb again, Hermy. We're your fucking mates, we'd die gladly for ya. Though I'd rather not die soon." Beckendorf sleepily grumbled, poking Herman's ear with his antler. His hand slid onto Grauer's thigh. Herman looked down at his legs, taken aback by the many tears and rips in his arctic camouflage BDU. The sheer smearing of dirt and dried blood could count as its own camo.

"What he said. We've got Aura, but more importantly we've got brains and guile. Let us do the heavy thinking on how to get out of this, you big lunk. And I promise you that we will start again. You and I, Herman."

"And me." Beckendorf said.

"And him." At these words, Herman smiled and shook some more. He had been shackled and thrown behind bars but at that very moment, his soul was flying free.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"What in fucking tarnation am I supposed to do?" Smoky wondered aloud to himself. After pulling up the terrorist's biographical details and having read Aurum's and Fireheart's reports-not to mention listening to the Prince's insufferable whining-he was truly confused. Outside, four bored men polished their rifles, waiting for the order. Smoky rubbed his eyes; he should've put this off till tomorrow. Or a few months.

"Caleb Grauer, couldn't ya spend more time with your kid?" The Faunus fanned his face with his fedora before scratching his forehead. He had to shift uncomfortably low in his seat; the armor plating was flexible but some hard to reach places got unbearably itchy. The scroll rang, and Smoky stumbled forward for it, one arm bent in an impossible position.

"Chief of Vale Intelligence."

"This is Emerald Battleaxe." Upon hearing that stentorian voice, Smoky froze, extricated his arm and sat up straight. By his window, a little brown moth fluttered about, smacking into the glass at regular intervals.

"My Lor-I mean, Emerald Battleaxe. We do not hear from you often."

"I hear that my son was saved, not by the Vale army nor by hunters, but by some scraggly Faunus scavengers. For what reason do I employ you lot? I should have you all beheaded for little Celadon's afternoon entertainment."

"My sincerest apologies, Battleaxe." Smoky said, trying to restrain his inner voice. " _Fuck your fucking mother, you upjumped asshole._ "

"Apologies will not do. What if a more unscrupulous party had found my son? Now I shall be forced to do something about these 'kindred' spirits. One of whom, it appears, has happened to have undergone a face-heel turn. Normally I'd behead a man for betraying his allies so quickly, but he's apparently on my side, so it is all okay. Give him a medal."

"Sir, the Atlesians want him to stand trial for his crimes. Granting him an honor would insult them greatly and may have serious repercussions." Smoky felt his hand hurt, and he relaxed his grip on the phone.

"If they want to fight, they'll get one. But they ought to have their history books out to remember what happened last time."

"Sir, in this state we surely can't- "Smoky felt his heart rate go up, and he swore he felt a blood vessel burst somewhere.

"I jest. Of course, I'm not giving that filthy murderer a medal, but it is a shame to see such a fine young psychopath go to waste. I'm sure if we dangle a tiny little incentive in front of him, he'd be leaping to snatch it. Now listen closely."

Soon after Gaunt came stumbling into his office in an odd fashion; Smoky wondered if his arse had been placed into an uncomfortable position for an extended period. He told the General all about his conversation, and there was a lengthy silence afterwards.

"Would you like a transcript, sir?"

"No, no. Just give me five more minutes to comprehend this bullshit." The General stood perfectly still, as if allowing some painter to model an expression of unadulterated shock.

"As you please, sir."

"There's no way he'll go for it. No sane person would go for it."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Mind if I bother you for a moment?" A tiny shitfaced corporal leant against the wall, with both his hands pressed against his waist, asked Herman. The guy's uniform shirt was unbuttoned, revealing greasy chest hairs carpeting blistered skin and a protuberant belly. The Faunus in question sighed, blinking his sleepy eyes rapidly. He raised his shackles, and the Corporal fumbled about his trousers for a good ten minutes before producing a key. As he knelt to unshackle the boy, Herman felt his stinking breath batter his face and thought that the man's beet red visage was too close. Worse, some slobber dribbled off the stiff uniform collar and dripped onto his forehead.

"You shouldn't have done it, sir." He said breathily.

"What?" Herman asked irritably, noting with concern that a little tent had appeared in between the man's legs as he shuffled closer. The drunk was taking longer than usual to unshackle him. It didn't help that he dropped the keys between Herman's legs and his hands went searching about. Herman jerked his legs back and waited until the key was retrieved, performing a little shuffling dance.

"Whatever you did. They wouldn't have locked you and your friends up if you did." Herman noted the man shuffled unnecessarily close; the tent even closer.

Grauer reflected that he and his friends may be going to their deaths, but there was always someone else pursuing their own agenda. He brought the manacles up hard, mashing them into the tent and nearly strangling the drunk bastard's cock with the chain.

The corporal stumbled back with a squeak, and Herman bathed in the waves of pleasure emitted by the soldier's pain. He gave the man a murderous glare and noted the name on his nameplate. DEREK, it shamelessly announced.

Corporal Derek was a man of the world and did not try molesting Private Grauer another time. This time the manacles came off smoothly. They went walking in the corridor lit by moonlight, down countless hallways. Herman wanted to ask the corporal where they were going, but he was only a drunk, horny jailor.

Finally, Herman was led past four slumbering men who were still in their uniform and clutched their rifles, and into Smoky's office. Even more impressive was the small mountains of grey ash sitting in the many ashtrays around the Faunus' desk as well as the corner bin overfilling with butts.

The spymaster spun around to face the convict and ordered Corporal Derek out to the latrines. He was struck by how young the terrorist was compared to how he looked; sunken eyes, a forehead tarnished with a few lines, dark eyes with bags beneath them, dirty stubble.

"You've caused plenty of trouble kid, done shit you can't come back from. I'll give it to ya straight-you can do something for your- "

"Tell me what needs to be done." Smoky blinked at the boy's abrupt response.

"Give me an order and I'll follow it. But first let me know what you'll do if I carry it out and live."

" _Shit, this guy's good._ "

Smoky told him, and later rung up the General.

"He agreed to it?" It appeared Gaunt hadn't gotten over his shock.

"He blew up an entire town of civvies; I think at this point he'll do anything. He did agree on two conditions, thought." Smoky said thoughtfully as he rolled himself another cigarette.

"What would those be?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Later that night, the White Fang's 2nd Lt and Bilare walked side by side. Their soldiers were scattered about the various buildings and relief zones set up in the VDF controlled area. The pair conversed monosyllabically, clad in the white robes of Solarus' followers.

"Was ditching most of our equipment part of your plan?"

"Our men have stashed various fragments of weapons in various cubbyholes and hiding places. Yes, mobilization will be slow, and our plan takes time, which we have precious little of. I understand your hesitation."

"We are far from support. I don't want good Faunus men and woman under my command butchered. What was Zheeliyony thinking, ordering us to fight over the carcass of this kingdom like rats over a corpse?" Biliare hissed, before wincing in pain. Reflexively her hand went to the stub of her trait, there it ached as it was whole. She stumbled on some rubble, drawing curious looks from the guards, who saw the 2nd Lt. kneel as well, supporting her.

"Get back inside, you folk! It's dangerous at night, and the next patrol may not be as patient as we are."  
The 2nd Lt. only nodded and helped Biliare up. They walked past a series of olive-green tents hosting slumbering families and eased into the shattered remains of a café where only a few rats the size of small cats scurried. The 2nd Lt. gave one a good kick, sending it splattering into the shattered wall. The rest got the message.

They sat upon blocks of concrete; everything else had been stolen or turned into splinters in the fighting. The only sign of it being a café was a battered white plastic sign with half a cup of hot coffee on the floor.

"Zheeliyony's time is limited. He has wasted much with his foolish stratagems; I do not understand why Taurus would appoint such a man to lead us. I heard of his genius in Atlas, but it seems to have gone out of him. Moreover, I do not understand why weak fighters such as you are commanders."

Biliare's amber yellow eyes blazed in the pale moonlight.

"What the hell do you mean by that?"

"Who the hell wears an EOD suit while fighting a highly mobile foe?" The 2nd Lt. shot back. "If I had to guess, you're one of those disgruntled civilian revolutionaries who managed to pick up a gun and grow good at planning and killing small fry." He leaned back in his 'seat' and yawned. Biliare said nothing for a long time, before speaking.

"Are we planning on how to minimize our losses, or do you intend to trash me further?" She hissed, leaning close to the 2nd Lt. "I have a plan, but it all comes down to the right timing. We'll need to scout the place before making our move-one misstep, and not only will we be surrounded by the Vale Guard but by Huntsmen as well."

Outside, a few soldiers marched groggily, singing a bawdy version of a drinking song. Caught up in their throng were two giggling women, whose coquettish whispers grew louder as they neared the shelled-out building. The 2nd Lt. looked at Biliare and shrugged.

"Tell me, then. And I'll tell you what I've got in mind. But first we should move and find a new location, because this place is going to get busy."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Can that be of any use still?" A rat Faunus shivered and pointed at the twitching white sheet carried by the Assassin. He held it tenderly, as if there was a child held inside. A single desiccated arm hung from the bundle.

"Give me half a day, and I'll make it work." Hassan said as he beheld the last metal beast the White Fang still had.

"Man, they do teach you a thing or two in Atlas, huh?" The rat gave a nervous laugh and shivered in the coldness of the garage.

"Yes, Alpha Pack taught me quite a bit. But not enough. For gifts like these- "The Assassin held up his metal arm, which rapidly shifted into a sharpened blade"-and the knowledge of controlling the fusion of metal and flesh, one must travel into the deeper, darker corners of this world. Or in my case, they came to me."

The rat laughed once again, a high-pitched shrill noise that Hassan severely disliked. With a single glare, he shut the ratty technician off.

"Leave. I have work to do."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Herman stood by the metal door, weapon in hand. He looked at the battered black blade, smiling.

" _I'll take better care of ya, I promise_." He thought, before shifting his hand onto the hatch release. Heidi's hand struck out and touched his. Their eyes met.

"This is what you agreed to?"

The hatch slid open, revealing the Amity Colosseum. The massive inverted cone floated still, though the damage incurred during the fall had turned most of the docking areas to rubble. The Bullhead rose slightly higher, moving slowly closer till the seating area was no less than thirty or forty feet away. Herman nodded, looking at the black briefcase clipped to a belt on his hip.

"This is as close as we can get you! Docking area's trashed and pretty soon the Grimm nesting here are gonna-here they come!" The radio headsets that Herman and Heidi wore squawked in tune with the enraged screeching of the Gryphons and Nevermores. Unfurling their wings, they dove off their perches and came spiraling towards the transport.

"Glad 'Dorf saw reason and decided to stay down there. He wouldn't be able to handle this." Heidi remarked, readying herself.

Herman crouched slightly, revving Nihil up. His ears were filled with a thunderous roaring as two fighter jets swept over them, releasing cluster missiles into the heart of the swarm. Orange explosions followed by the brilliant yellow crackling of Electric Dust send countless winged Grimm plummeting to the ground as they dissipated. Some were vaporized outright. All Herman knew was that it was time to strike.

This time their fate was entirely in their own hands.


	42. Launch

Chapter 40: Launch

"You're doing it again." Heidi complained, skidding across the outer rail of the stadium, decapacitating a Gryphon in the process. She flipped, slamming her blades together, and fired an Earth Dust arrow at a cluster of Grimm. They squawked, their wings locking up as the Dust congealed and sent them falling with all the grace of a brick.

"What?" Herman shouted, his foot skidding of the surprisingly smooth back of a Nevermore. He slipped, feeling gravity tug at his stomach as he buried Nihil into the base of its neck. The monster twirled and flipped, beating its wings against him, but Herman held on as the blood rushed to his head. From his angle, the city looked very small, an endless expanse of-

He wrenched the blade left as it began to slide out of the wound, and the overgrown bird righted itself as it flew straight for the stadium. Herman pulled himself up by the hilt of the blade, before wrenching it sharply right and launching himself off. Midair, a Gryphon came screeching, but Nihil went clean through its throat. Herman grunted as he felt the teeth rip it through throat to belly and braced himself for a landing. He crashed through the metal railing, tearing off a wide section and smashed into the top row of seats, turning them into plastic scraps.

"What am I doing again?" He asked Heidi, morphing his weapon to an LMG and blasting away at the surrounding Grimm. Reflexively he checked his hip for the briefcase; thankfully it was still clipped to the waistband of his ragged BDU.

"That creepy smile. Haven't you ever noticed?" She shouted. Herman raised an eyebrow and touched his cheeks. It was true; he was smiling for some reason. Painfully so.

"Again?" He shouted, even more confused. He fired in quick bursts, keeping a mental estimate of his ammo count.

"Every time I've seen you fight, or get hurt, you always had a weird and creepy smile on your face. Remember how you giggled at the whipping post? I think there's something you're not telling me." She yelled, ducking beneath a swooping Gryphon and burying her blades in its belly.

"Uh…. weird." Herman fired two more bursts before leaping over a row of chairs and hauling ass to the West side of the stadium, where the announcer's section was. It overlooked Beacon, and the device had to be set up there. Skirting across a large hole, he reloaded his gun, noting the arena was malfunctioning. Sometimes the scenery was a jungle, other times it flipped to half desert and half ocean, and so on.

Weaving through the stands, he provided cover fire for Heidi as his mind suddenly became occupied with strange thoughts.

" _I can't deny it. The electric tingles running up my spine, arcing across my skin, this built-up current in my brain…..._ "

He leapt, landing on the top of the announcer's section, and fired a few more rounds to keep the Grimm at bay. A Gryphon landed two feet from him, its wings patterned with bullet holes and its claws shot off. It squawked at him, whether in pain or defiance Herman could not tell. He just felt the pleasurable electricity spread across his body as he stepped towards it, his blade screeching. A quick stab, and it dissipated. He unclipped the briefcase and set it down on the floor. Heidi came running up, landing next to him.

The brushed steel glinted in the morning sun. Herman reached in and extracted the laser guidance system from its black Styrofoam cushions. He shook the box about, and a small paper manual also came sliding out. There were two empty slots in the cushion, and Herman hoped it wasn't anything particularly important.

"Right, let's see. Extend tripod stand- "

"Herman, are you firing a missile at Beacon?" Heidi interjected as she knelt beside him.

"Looks like it. Funny how I keep doing the same things, like getting blown up or blowing places up, isn't it?" He shrugged, his head aching slightly at the thought.

"So that was the deal. Why do you hide these things?"

"Wasn't a case of hiding so much as it was not having enough time to talk it over." Herman set it up and angled its direction. It could have been mistaken for a camera with its black boxy frame. He knelt, squinting down the viewing lenses. There were so many menus to fiddle with, and he found himself consulting the manual time and time again. Finally, he managed to lock a target, right on the big stone Dragon perched upon the highest tower of Beacon.

He brought out a pocket radio, as the destruction the CCT had rendered the communication services on his scroll inactive. At least he could use the calculator function. There was that.

"R-1 to Mission Control. Targeting system is in place. I repeat, targeting system is in place. Transmitting co-ordinates." Herman clicked a little button by the side of the device.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Tucked away in the farthest corners of the Kingdom of Vale, a technician was jerked awake by the buzzing in his headset as the transmission was relayed through countless transmission lines. He re-adjusted the wire, blinking blearily at the rows of twinkling lights before him. Licking his lips, he looked back at the base commander. She nodded, before speaking into her own headset before pulling out two square-shaped keys from her coat pocket. Passing one to the operator, she held her card horizontally, her arm forming a 90 degrees angle, ready to insert the card into its slot.

"Inserting." She announced, and in unison the cards were placed into their respective slots.

"Turning." The operator replied, licking his parched lips. For a few minutes they waited for the software to recognize the digital signature, before a warning sign in bold lettering flashed on the CRT screen embedded in the control panel.

 **WARHEAD LAUNCH SEQUENCE INITIALIZED**

"Copy that, R-1. ETA of package is 10 minutes. I repeat, ETA of package is 10 minutes." The base commander spoke as she switched on her headset.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Herman stepped back, once more carrying out an equipment check. 8 100-round boxes, 3 Fire, 2 Wind, 3 Earth. Gauntlet, battered. Scroll embedded in Gauntlet-though he was suspicious of what the Vale Military did with it when they confiscated his equipment. Nihil battered and scratched. All seem to be in order.

"This was easier than they made it out to be. At least there are no civvies this time." He said.

"Was it necessary? I had expected to be tortured by the hunters at Beacon, but we were treated pretty hospitably." Heidi said wistfully, scraping her blades against one another.

"Yeah, but now there's a whole load of Grimm swarming about there, posing a big threat to the Kingdom. Sometimes you gotta cut your losses." Herman said, though he felt a little uneasy, nonetheless.

"What next, Herman? Do we simply walk off the battlefield after this?"

Herman closed his eyes and took a deep breath, readying himself for Heidi's reaction.

"Yeah, don't worry. You guys will be okay." He said, his voice trailing off into the distance. The ETA was meant to be 10 minutes, but it felt like an eternity, standing on the edge with Heidi.

"What did you do?" She asked quietly, in almost resigned tone. Herman was taken aback. He expected her to be angrier.

"It's like you said. If I wanted to keep you guys safe, I should've stayed the hell away. It was a mistake to drag you along with me, my only two living friends, on this mad adventure for redemption." Herman said, choking up, as he recalled the deal he made in Smokey's office. Unable to face Heidi, he kept talking. "I try to act like some lone wolf, but the only reason I survive is because of others around me, and they pay for that. _You've_ already suffered for helping me, Heidi. Won't be long before something worse happens."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

" _I'll give it to ya straight, kid." Smokey twirled the cigarette, as fumes wafted from his lips. "You can claim the White Fang took you as a kid, pressed you into service, made you do whatever. It ain't gonna do shit for you."_

 _Herman hung his head, with his knees trembling._

" _And those two you've dragged about; we can't charge them for anything but consorting with and harboring a terrorist. That's at least fifteen years in the resocialization centers."_

 _His head bent lower, and his arms shook in tandem with the rest of his body. He should've known it was foolish to hope._

" _But given that you also hampered White Fang efforts and saved the Prince of Vale, I guess I can offer you a deal."_

 _Herman's ears perked up, and he looked up slowly at the chain-smoking armadillo. Smokey pulled open a drawer and passed a green colored sheet to him. Hesitantly he reached out and began to read. Despite the mass of legalese-which wasn't too hard for him to decipher after his studies-one term stuck out for him._

" _Five years of penal service followed up by resocialization?" He could hardly believe it. It seemed too good to be true._

" _Yeah. You like the terms, you sign- "Smokey rolled a pen across the table, which Herman eagerly snatched began scribbling. "-and I'll let those allies of yours go." He remarked as an afterthought. Herman slammed down the paper on the desk, causing the ashtray to nearly slide off the side._

" _Before we pack you off though, you got a mission."_

" _As I said when we met; tell me what needs to be done."_

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Five years, huh?" Heidi repeated, looked up to the sky, where a bright yellow streak made its way across the sky, which was turning cloudy once more.

"You guys go free; I do military service."

"You trade one uniform for another? That's awfully flaky of you, though I can't really criticize."

It was a silence filled with emotion. Neither could speak or bear to look at one another; their gaze was fixated upon the doomed Academy. When the missile hit, the deafening roar barely registered, and they unconsciously braced for the shockwave by dropping to their knees and gripping the edge. The stadium rocked back and forth, and the pair had to shield their eyes.

" _When I went with him, I sealed Mama's and big sister's fates._ " Heidi suddenly thought, gripping tightly onto the railing, just as thorns gripped her heart. " _Even now I don't know what possessed me, aside from fear of what he may have done otherwise._ " Suddenly she felt bad. " _What am I thinking? I went on my own free will…. but it doesn't make it hurt any less."_

Then, there was silence again. Looking again at the horizon, they saw a thick orange-red cloud rising where the Academy used to be. Herman quivered once again, his mind drifting back to the town he destroyed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"How you holdin' up?" Beckendorf leaned on the wall, standing beside the drip stand next to the Atlesian pilot's bed. She looked at him, confused. "We never made proper introductions, did we? I'm Ben. Ben Beckendorf, and-  
"I remember you. You were with that terrorist, right? You, that Faunus girl, that boy piloting my mech, and the little Prince. A strange outfit." She spoke haltingly, frequently pausing for breath time and again."

"Yeah, that'd be Herman, Heidi, Eliphates, and Celadon what's-his-name. Pretty weird mix-up, and the story's behind it is just as weird." 'Dorf offered a stick of gum to the woman, who gratefully took it. He didn't fail to notice how her arm was thin as a stick, and her fingers thinner.

"First Officer Ingrid Fireheart. As you probably saw, I was the pilot of that Paladin." She said, relishing the raspberry flavor, yet cringing at the thought of the dark compartment, and the screams...the gum had turned flavorless, a lead weight upon her tongue.

"Hey. You're out of there now. You're safe." Beckendorf quickly noticed her eyes glazing over. She shook her head, rubbing a finger against her forehead as she did so. "Whatever happened in there, it's over." The reindeer chewed his lip anxiously, unsure of what to say next.

"I'm safe, but my squad is dead. The contingent of Hunters that came with us are also dead. And I could only watch." Ingrid said hollowly, recalling the panicked screams over the radio, the black chess piece set against a red backdrop taking over the system interface. She shook, a tear running down her cheek. She closed her eyes, only to see the dark interior of the Paladin bathed in red light.

"Hey. Hey. Look at me-you're safe now." Firm hands gripped her bony shoulders, and her eyes flew open. Beckendorf was right in front of her now, staring back.

"Why are you talking to me?" She said, after a long silence. "I should be your enemy, if you were with that terrorist."

Beckendorf released his grip on her shoulders but kept looking her in the eyes. He kept quiet, rummaging about in his mind like it was a depot, looking for something to say.

"Because I want to." She looked at him in surprise, and Beckendorf nervously licked his lips and continued. "I've seen so much death and destruction, and I'm tired of it all. Besides, my friends left me to go on some mission, so I didn't have much to do but reflect."

Somewhat ashamed, she looked away, staring at an empty white flower vase on the windowsill. The sun peeked out from its cover of grey woolen clouds, bathing the bed in light, before receding.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."  
He stood there for a long while, shifting his gaze to the landscape outside. Ingrid kept quiet, even though she now had half-a-dozen questions in her tired mind.

"That terrorist….is your friend?"

"Shocker, isn't it? Yeah, he happens to be my psycho friend." Beckendorf saw the disbelief in the lady's eyes, and sighed. "You ever have someone you felt safe with, someone you could stick by and talk with all day and all night? That's who Herman was to me."

"Safe with?" She echoed, painfully shifting herself into a more comfortable position in her bed. Looking left and right, she saw other patients slumbering or engaged in their own conversations. Some were two to a bed; others sat on wooden pallets on the floor. " _The one thing I felt I could rely upon, feel safe in, betrayed me at the most critical moment._ "

"Yeah." Beckendorf said quietly, thinking about his friend. " _An unshakable foundation in the face of artillery barrages and mechanized assaults. The Herman I knew. Now, though-why am I even thinking of my friend like this?_ " He rubbed his eyes, trying not to think over what he saw Herman do on the battlefield. " _I can't judge, though. I did…. things as well in Atlas. We're all complicit._ "

"Are you all right?" It was now Ingrid's turn to ask that question, as she saw Beckendorf's smile fade.

"Yeah, just got lost in thought. I'll be on my way, now- "He waved and turned to leave, only to fall on his knees as a massive shockwave rippled through the field hospital. Ingrid was harshly jolted in her bed, the saline drip nearly disconnecting, and she heard the yowl of a patient falling out of his bed. A fluorescent lamp swayed back and forth about its cable.

Getting up, the reindeer stumbled towards the window and pressed his palms against the cold, smooth glass. He craned his neck left or right, his mouth extremely dry.

Nothing on the horizon. Confused, Beckendorf looked back at the pilot, and opened his mouth. Whatever came out was soon drowned out by an earsplitting roar that echoed across all of Vale, and Beckendorf felt the front of his pants get wet and warm.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Staring in disbelief at the dark mass emerging from the orange-red cloud, the two prepared their weapons. Herman felt his knees shake slightly, whether from fear or adrenaline he could not tell. Heidi was completely dumbfounded, and her face grew pale.

The Dragon roared one more time as it emerged from the cloud, and a swarm gradually accumulated about its burning body, with small dark blobs bubbling upon its flesh and dropped earthwards. It flapped its wings-Herman could clearly see large, gaping holes in them-and headed towards the Amity Colosseum. This gave him hope.

"Heidi-the bastard's weakened. We just need to finish it off." Herman yelled over the din, as he raised his weapon and began to fire in quick, short bursts. Estimating the bullet drop from his tracer rounds, he adjusted his sights and regulated his trigger pulls.

Just then, the Vale Airforce Combat Patrol flew over their heads and engaged the Dragon and its trailing swarm-only for both jets to erupt in flames as the Grimm broke formation and assailed the combat pair from various angles.

"And how do you propose we do that?" She yelled; her voice was hoarse.

Herman smirked and confidently stepped forward, switching Nihil to chainsword form. He stood on the very edge, assessing the number of incoming enemies with a confident gleam in his eyes. Heidi looked at him expectantly, before looking back at the swarm, and back at him.

"Do you see the distance between us and them, Heidi?" Herman lifted his battered blade, pointing towards the enemy.

"I do."

"You know what that means?" He said in a very self-assured tone, tilting his head back in a cocky manner.

"It'll take time for them to reach us?" She raised an eyebrow, not knowing where Herman was going with all of this.

"Exactly. Which is why we will- "Herman tensed up, moving into the Gryphon stance, and Heidi prepared herself.

"We will what?" She said after a long moment of silence. The screeching grew louder; and the dragon was getting closer.

"Retreat to a more strategic position!" Herman announced as he spun on his heel and beelined for the malfunctioning arena. Heidi stood there, momentarily shocked, before darting after him.

"You bastard! You didn't really have a plan, did you?"  
"No."

"Then why waste our time with your inane babbling?"

"You look so cool when you make a plan Heidi; that fire in your eyes and conviction in your voice. I wanted to experience that." Herman yelped as he dove behind a bush, only for the terrain to shift beneath him, flipping him into a pool of water.

It was very dark underneath the arena, and very smelly. Wading to the surface, he saw the hydraulics lift another set of the scenery to the surface-this a tropical location with dense thorn bushes and palm trees-and dove in. Just then, the entire arena rumbled, and as Herman's piece of cover ascended, he saw the Dragon perched upon the edge of the Coliseum. Its long and cruel claws tore into the concrete as it asserted its position, and as it shifted its weight the entire Coliseum pitched forward. Dark liquid seeped from its skin, spreading across the surface. More worryingly, there were all sorts of flying Grimm everywhere and he couldn't see Heidi.

Three gryphons landed in front of him, arrowheads buried in their throats. He looked up, and saw Heidi leaping and rebounding off the backs of the swarm, elegantly slashing and using her assortment to Dust arrows to the fullest effect. The platform beneath him shifted, and Herman stumbled forward not knowing what he was doing.

Blood roared in his ears as his instincts kicked in; he leapt and whirled Nihil in a semicircle, before sidestepping and leaping backwards. His feet came to rest against the rocky base of a mountain, and he leapt forward to bisect another beast. He couldn't even tell what he was slicing; the swarm was all over him, screeching and squawking. When one got shredded by his chainsword, six more took its place. Yet their numbers were precisely what saved the two; with so many packed into one place they had a hard time of biting, scratching and carrying off the Faunus.

Heidi leapt into the chasm beneath her, firing Fire Dust arrows at the pursuing beasts. The narrow approach gave some breathing room from aerial attacks; but just then more Grimm flew over and dropped dark clusters from their talons, releasing a thick black choking gas. She ran, leaping as the ground shifted once more, and sought refuge in an alpine tree line, using the cover to down and decapacitate more of the monsters. She would've stayed longer, but just then the masses of trees were uprooted as the Dragon swept its claws across the Colosseum and showered the area in splinters. Heidi leapt just in time, but a Gryphon caught her by her helmet which nearly got pulled off had she not immediately stabbed upwards and ripped off its claws. Rolling into a ball, she felt the breath go out of her as she landed on the hard concrete. Immediately she crawled between the seat aisles and darted for the hallways. The Grimm came screeching and flapping after her, but could not maneuver properly in the tight hallway, and Heidi found herself by the concession stand. The foul smell of rotten meat emanated from a massive freezer, almost overpowering the downright evil stench of the Grimm.

Meanwhile, Herman repeatedly shanked a strange insectoid Grimm with an odd-shaped stinger and funny looking vestigial wings, before hurling it back into the swarm. The claws scraped against him and more than a dozen times he was stung and bitten, yet he bitterly slashed and fired away as he staged his retreat to the ticket collection office. The weakened Dragon shifted itself atop the Coliseum some more, surveying the surround landscape, and with alarm Herman noted its wounds were re-sealing. Lazily it smashed its claws into the Alpine setting of the arena and caved in a small portion revealing a section of the hydraulic pipes.

He smashed through the glass of the Ticket office, leaping behind the counter as a Nevermore thrust its screeching beak through the remaining windows, with others eagerly clustered behind to tear him apart. Breathing heavily, he fired Earth Dust Rounds upwards as the Grimm tore apart the roof. Plaster and concrete chunks dropped upon his head; claws broke through the surface behind him and grasped his shoulders. A Gryphon poked its head further and snapped at the Faunus's head as he desperately shifted about to evade it. With alarm, he saw the surface beneath him crumble as the jagged maw of a Grimm forced itself through an opening.

This momentary period of distraction allowed the Gryphon harassing him to bite down on his throat; the claws around his shoulders found purchase and pulled himself closer to the wall. Dark, hairy, warm forearms grasped his chest in a lover's embrace and bound his ribs tightly. More concrete dropped upon his head and the hole in the floor in front of him widened exposing malevolent red eyes gleaming in the darkness. His magazine clicked empty. Panicked, he tried to reach for another box magazine only to find none at his hip.

Now he was truly alone and helpless as a child left to his own devices in the dark forests of Vale.

Smoke wafted upwards from the worn black barrel of Nihil, rising through the widening hole in the roof.

The claws brought both pain and sickly waves of pleasure.

Herman closed his eyes, the smell of Fire Dust thick in his nostrils. He saw nothing but a pitch blackness as he felt his indomitable Aura begin to waver. The Grimm pressed upon him, biting, clawing, chewing. Teeth as hard as diamonds and sharp as blades worried at his throat. Dimly, he heard the whistling of arrows and the crackle of gunfire, the Dragon's roar reigning supreme.

" _Flash isn't here to save my ass, and Heidi's too far. Maybe this is better, then. She won't get hurt if they're all here._ "

The current within his spine gently pulsed across his body; the pain of the claws, teeth and beaks a distant feeling. Sorrow infused his chest, and he felt his eyes burn slightly.  
" _Is this how I go out?"_

A painful shockwave danced across his neurons, and his eyes began to burn with a greater intensity. The pain was all but gone.

" _I've always danced to someone's tune; now I've carried out my mission for Vale. Now…."_ His hand tightened about Nihil, and he pressed the transformation switch. "… _I fight for myself. For Beckendorf. For Heidi."_

He marshalled the last vestiges of strength and courage in his heart.

The familiar screech of Nihil cut over the roar of Grimm swarming him, inducing clarity to his thoughts. Even though he felt the first cuts seep past his Aura, the pain only built up to an immensely pleasurable feeling that spread all over his body in currents. Goosebumps stood out on his skin.

From the sorrow within, rage boiled over, as one final defiant thought rang in his cranium like a bell in a church tower.

" _For my parents, I will avenge."_

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Heidi ducked beneath the Ursa's swipe and took its arm clean off, weaving between her assailants. Her search had been fruitless; there were no weapons or environmental hazards she could use to thin the herd. Now she fought alone in the darkness of the tunnel, beset by increasingly powerful Grimm on all sides. She wasn't sure of how long she'd hold up, but she was determined to take down as many as she could.

" _Before I meet Mama and Big Sis, I'll give them something to be proud of._ " Milk white blades cut through the dark flesh; her grunts were muffled by the agonized screaming of the Grimm. Heidi's eyes blazed as she leapt and ran along the wall, calculating the various trajectories of attack within her mind. Wind Dust arrows in the enclosed space blew the Grimm away, giving her the space needed to return to the arena. With alarm she noted the copious black liquid seeping everywhere, and the mass of Grimm concentrated in one area while even greater numbers flew overhead. Above all, the Dragon had very little wounds left as it bathed in its own secretions. One of her hollow-tipped arrows pierced an open section of exposed hydraulics, letting loose a brilliant white jet of steam which burnt a few Grimm assailing her from the north-east.

Heidi rolled to avoid a Stinger's barbs and sprinted for the central Arena-which had shifted to an ocean with a few islands-with a pack chasing right after her. Leaping as she reached the edge, the Grimm splashed into the water and paddled after her. Still mid-air, she nocked a Lightening Dust arrow and fired it directly beneath her, not waiting to see the electricity reduce the Grimm to mere ash. Landing hard upon the sand of an island, she looked up to see various Grimm circling her, ready for the kill. Baring her blades, she stood defiant even as her quiver ran dry and her heart caught in her throat.

 _ **ZZZAP**_

Dark feathers dissipated as they twirled about Heidi. Shocked, she was only faintly aware of the smell of burning hair. Gunfire streaked before her, cutting down Grimm in swathes. She looked in the direction of her saviors, still not comprehending her lucky escape.

Aciero Darbas stood upon the edge, her exoskeletal arms bearing a massive steel cannon with tubes connecting it to a power backpack. The muzzle of the grey cannon burnt red-hot; and a large drill hovered about her head, borne aloft by another arm.

By her side stood a collection of Hunters, suited up and armed for war. A massive giant in emerald armor bearing a double-barrel shotgun with a hook-bayonet, a short lady wielding a multi-barreled grenade launcher, a tall dark man with a halberd-rifle, a Faunus with two massive crimson gauntlets and a turtle shell on her back….she had never seen so many in one place before. Above them a dropship hovered from which more Hunters dropped to join the fray. Professors Port and Oobleck stood at the forefront, weapons proudly on display.

"Here again, old chap?" Port smirked and shook his head. "These Grimm never learn." He cockily twirled his magnificent grey moustache even as the Grimm Dragon faced them, letting out a thundering roar as more of its spawned abominations came crawling forth.

"Firstwefoughttodefendahumiliatingretreat-"Oobleck only paused to take a quick swig from his thermos flask before morphing it back into a flamethrower "-butnowwefighttodrivetheGrimmfromourhome."

With that, they charged forward, discharging multicolored volleys of countless forms of Dust rounds into the dark horde. The Grimm burned; writhed about and roared as they were shot to pieces and cut to molecules. The swarm around the ticket office broke away, but just then a war scream loud enough to rival the Dragon's roar emerged from the heart of the swarm.

Herman came bursting through the swarm, sending dozens flying in bisected pieces with one swing. He was bleeding from head to toe, and his uniform's sleeves were shredded. Even so, his Aura visibly burnt a bright blue-grey, as he sliced, diced and cut the assailing Grimm to ribbons. An Ursa Major tried braining him with one swipe of its claw; he ducked and dropped his blade as he seized it about the forearm and swung it a full 360 degrees before hurling it at the Dragon, which caught it in its merciless jaws and crushed it.

With renewed hope in her heart, Heidi joined the assault. The Dragon had all but recovered now; it stuck forth with its claws and sent a few Hunters flying, before trying to capture one or two in its jaws. It rose and sat on its hindlegs, flapping its wings vigorously and creating a gust strong enough to rip loose chunks of concrete and pin the Hunters in their positions.

"HUNTERS OF VALE! DO NOT ALLOW IT TO TAKE OFF!" Port commanded over the din, as Oobleck let loose with his missiles. Aciero fired her cannon, incinerating a clear chunk of the Dragon's wing, and simultaneously leapt forward to drive the red-hot drill into the monster's side. The Halbedier ducked and weaved, blasting away lesser Grimm before thrusting his blade into the enemy's dark right wing and dragging sharply downwards. The giant in emerald armor launched its hook bayonet-connected to the underbarrel shotgun by a chain-which soared through the air and embedded itself in the Dragon's back. The giant came flying after the hook, proving itself surprising aerodynamic despite the size of its armor. Others focused their fire and their blades, the bright afterclouds of Dust ammunition designating the fire zones which melee users avoided.

Heidi herself came charging forward, leaping over the broad stroke of a claw and began hacking away where she could, her brain on autopilot. Countless colorful patterns danced up the Dragon; blue-white ice Dust froze its wings, orange-red Dust scorched its skin, brown-green Dust pinned its hind legs in place, yellow Dust crackled up and down the beast and many more types of ammunition wreaked havoc on the monster.

Herman staggered forward, oblivious to his wounds. He didn't feel anything at all, only pleasure overwhelming as he sliced and hacked away, hearing the pained screams of his enemy. He needed more. More. And only one thing would give him that.

Glaring at the Dragon, he ran full tilt towards it, oblivious to the shouts of the Hunters. Single-handedly twirling the blade above his head, he sliced off the distracted Dragon's right claw at the joint. The beast let out an overwhelming roar of rage and pain as its wings were shot and cut to Dust, and its body began to burn away like the remnant of its claw. Yet it was determined not to die whimpering; it lashed out at the only fool right in front of it.

Herman stumbled and fell backwards and shrieked as he felt a twelve-inch fang sink into his upper left thigh. He had barely time to reflect on this, as he was suddenly tossed up in the air and landed in very dark and warm place. Nihil came soaring in after him and would have beheaded him had it not got caught in the wet smelly trachea.

"Bloody fool. I thought we'd get this done with no casualties." Port scoffed, giving the Dragon a taste of his Blunderbuss. The other Hunters barely reacted; they were used to seeing foolhardy warriors die. Only Aciero paused for a moment, only to re-concentrate her fire.

Heidi leapt out of the way of the Dragon's remaining claw slice, her armor growing heavy upon her. So much had happened so soon; she was still in disbelief. Yet in her heart there was growing hope in Herman's survival.

" _Idiot. You don't swallow the toothpick with the meal._ " Herman thought as his hands scrabbled for purchase in the wet wells, which constricted painfully about him before relaxing. His fingers found the blade's grip, moistened thanks to the warm saliva pooling around him. Or perhaps it was black blood. Nevertheless, he wrenched his blade this way and that, thrusting the blade deeper and deeper into his fleshy prison. His gauntlet held on tightly to the desiccated flesh; the wound in his thigh did not ache as much as it renewed his pleasure.

" _Heh. Of all the Semblances to have…._ " The agonized screams of the dying Dragon, coupled with the shower of copious thick black liquids, spurred Herman on as he sawed back and forth through the fleshy curtain. There was a sharp _thwacking_ noise, and some sharp bits came and buried themselves in his cheek and jaw. Yet he kept thrusting and cutting, the motor kept roaring for even without the teeth Nihil was a potent blade.

And eventually…...

Eventually….

Herman cut through to the light, making a thin slit for him to worm through. Eagerly seizing the aperture, he pulled himself through the narrow fleshy passageway.

"What in the world-" Somebody cried out, pointing at the opening flesh slit in the Dragon's scaly throat, before dodging as the Grimm gave up and fell towards the ground with a resounding _**THOOOOMP**_ which caved in the basement even more, and sent more cracks spiraling from the impact point.

Aciero and Heidi rushed forward as one, with the older Huntresses' exoskeletal arms dropping the cannon and lifting the Dragon's neck slightly. Heidi grunted and heaved; they slowly shifted the scaly neck to one side.

From the incision came a steady trickle of black blood-and Herman's muscled arm was sticking out from the slit. The knuckle was white from gripping Nihil's grip tightly; as Heidi cut him out, she saw where the teeth had gone and buried themselves.

One Hunter widened the slit with her scimitar a bit further, while Heidi and two others pulled Herman out. Too tired to think thoughts or say anything, she cradled his bloody head and stared at the stress-lined weary face, relieved by the faint dilation of his nostrils.

" _He's a fucked up, stupidly suicidal, mopey self-centered bastard. Yet he's the only ally I've got for now."_ She thought, with growing gladness in her heart. Another Hunter came running up with a medical kit, while Port shook his head and spoke into a radio. Oobleck drifted amongst the Hunters, checking up on their health, while they chatted amicably and celebrated their victory.

Aciero yanked out the blade, which had snapped in half. One jagged end was shorter than the other, exposing the internal thin layer of Gravity Dust, which was intended to make the blade lighter than normal or add more force to strikes as required. The dawning sun peeped out from the clouds, and the broken chain with less than half the teeth attached shone darkly. Frowning, she saw the remains of Herman's sherwani, where a small steel box had glinted. Lifting it gingerly with one exoskeleton arm, she placed it in her overalls for future reference.

" _Caleb Grauer, your kid's dumb as you were. Shame he ended up the way he did; greater shame's is what's gonna happen with him."_ She shook her head sadly as she placed shards of the broken weapon in her emergency toolkit as an idea took hold in her head. " _Still, he did save Eliphates. Guess I could repay the boy somehow-the last small kindness he'll have in a long time._ "

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 _Half an hour earlier_

The 2nd Lt. and Biliare looked up to the skies, mouths agape at the sight of the Dragon. They weren't alone; many people had dropped what they were doing to stare and point. Not for long, however, when the first shrieks emanated from the crowd and the Grimm emerged from the dark alleyways.

"Grimm! Grimm in the base!" A terrified farmer cried out, dropping his shovel and ramming his way through the people in the crowd. Others uttered cries of alarm, and the roars of the beasts spurred on a stampede which swept over those to weak to resist the sweaty mass of bodies. The 2nd Lt. grunted and shoved, keeping one arm around Biliare, and almost stumbled over a bleeding and weeping child who lay trampled on the ground. Briefly he looked at the human kid, before being pushed onwards by the force of the crowd.

The Grimm snarled, sensing their fear, and one leapt from a house onto the crowd. They were ready to feast.

Just then a few well-placed shots eliminated the surrounding Grimm, and Angelos came swooping down and smashed the leaping predator far into the distance with his warhammer. On snow-white wings, he landed in front of the crowd and chanted loudly. From the alleyways came Father Solarus, Ollanius and Nova with their weapons readied.

"People of Vale! Remain calm-we are here!" Solarus shouted, her voice echoing down the street and instilling calm in even the most frightened souls. "Follow the evacuation orders posted by the Vale Guard, and you will make it to the bunkers safely! We shall hold the Grimm back! Move!"

Pulling himself and Biliare through, the 2nd LT. broke through the wave of human bodies and inched his way along the side of a house. The warrior-priest's chanting infused his soul with a sense of burning calm, and he felt the clouds of doubt evaporate from his mind. Perspiration appeared on his brow as he stared at the Vale Guard HQ, with only one thought in his mind.

" _Grimm or no Grimm, it's time to finish this fight."_


End file.
